Let's get Lost
by kasswrites
Summary: AU. Suze is a little different. Beautiful, popular, in control. With her razor sharp edges and tall walls, nothing - and no-one - can get through to her. But then she meets Jesse. And her life starts coming apart.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey people.**

**I've been working on this a while, but haven't really got around to putting it up.**

**The book _Lets get Lost_ by Sarra Manning influenced certain things in this story.  
**

**Disclaimer: All the characters you know belong to Meg.**

**Hope you like.

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"No, Jeremy. Stop! Get – get off me!" I cried, trying to keep my voice from shaking. His hand crept up higher on my thigh, under my dress. Suddenly, he pulled away from my neck. I breathed a sigh of relief until I heard what he had to say.

"C'mon, Suze. You want it. You know you do. Just shut up, okay?"He said in a harsh voice.

"No!" I screeched "Just stop it! _Stop!_" I prayed that somebody, _anybody_ would hear me and come in to see what I was screaming about. But my hopes were lost when he lifted my dress; put a hand over my mouth, and one on both wrists above my head.

I lost a lot of things that night. My innocence – okay, there wasn't much, but still – my purity, my virginity. But most of all, my trust. I couldn't trust anybody anymore. I couldn't trust myself to get close to anybody. I put up my walls, and nobody could break them down. As soon as a guy got close enough to care about me, he was gone. Don't get me wrong, I still had friends. Or rather, minions. But they were all girls. My closet changed as I did. I started getting more short skirts, more low-cut tops. I wasn't a slut; I still had class. My waist length chestnut locks were always clean and straightened, my nails always manicured and my toes always pedicured. I just, you know, got around.

"Do you think we'll ever fall in love?" asked Krystal, one of my best minions-er, friends. We were in my room, having drinks with Felicity and Roxy before we went to tonight's party.

"Oh my god, Krystal" I said, rolling my eyes, "Stop being so fucking maudlin." We laughed at the chagrin on Krystal's face. "C'mon" I said to everyone. "Let's go.

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The party didn't suck.

It was at some rich girl's mansion – Roxy said her brother knew her. As we walked in, a lot of heads turned to look. I guess this is the part where I tell you what my friends are like.

Felicity is definitely the prettiest. Plus, she's smart. I like Felicity a lot better than the others. Her hair is fiery red – naturally – and poker straight more often than not. She has a light dusting of freckles, and these huge hazel eyes that I wish I had. She's also got the whole chest region going on for her. Gah, she must be, like, a C. Possibly a D. She also sticks to designer. All. The. Time. She's like, allergic to Wal-Mart and stuff. Tonight, she was in a tiny emerald green Coach cocktail dress that set off her pale skin and red hair. She had these awesome strappy silver Manolos on that strapped up to her knees. Felicity also had a boyfriend. But I think she was trying her best to forget that particular fact on that particular night.

Krystal is blonde. Same as Roxy. They are both totally and completely _clueless. _Krystal is petite; she has this whole _little body, big boobs_ thing going for her. Krystal has gray eyes, which are always rimmed with eyeliner. No, not in an emo way. In a professional oh-I-just-know-how-to-put-make-up-on way. Roxy is anorexic-looking, tan, and tall. She says a lot of incredibly stupid things. Her eyes are deep blue, and she has, like, no body weight. At all. Roxy and Krystal could totally pass for young playboy bunnies. The first thing you think when you meet them, is _dumb blonde_. Which is why they worked out so well as minions. That night, Krystal was in a red spangly top and a black pleated mini-skirt. She had black Louboutin stilettos on, and a heap of gold jewellery. Roxy was in almost the same outfit; except her top was pink and her heels weren't as high. Krystal and Roxy remind me a lot of Kati and Is from _Gossip Girl._ Actually, our whole group is a lot like the group from _Gossip Girl_. As I said, Krystal and Roxy would be Kati and Is, the faithful followers sharing a brain cell, which always did everything together. Felicity would be Serena. The nice, pretty, popular girl that everyone loves. And I would be Blair Waldorf. Queen Bee. Bitch. Beautiful. The one that everyone's scared of.

The leers followed us as we made our way through the hordes of teenagers dancing, over to a couch and sat down, feigning extreme boredness.

"Roxy, Krystal. Drinks" I said, as we got to the couch I was leading them to. I had dressed that night in a tiny silver and black Dolce & Gabanna mini-dress, some Dior stilettos and these fishnet suspenders that were annoying the fuck out of me. Roxy and Krystal came back a minute later, armfuls of UDLs. I sighed, but Roxy pulled out a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and handed it to me, with an expression not unlike that of when a cat fetches a mouse and shows it to its owner. I nodded and spared a small smile as I opened the bottle.

I was just about finished the bottle when Felicity leaned over to me, putting her mouth at my ear, noticing me staring at the tall blonde guy in the corner.

"Scott Ryder." she whispered, "Swim team at St. Mark's" I nodded and sat back, eyeing him off. His friend said something to him, his gaze on us. He turned around to look, and his eyes skimmed over the four girls sitting on the couch. As his gaze met mine, he smiled lazily. I raised a suggestive eyebrow – I was kind of drunk – which made him saunter over to us. Roxy and Krystal sat up, hopeful, but he talked only to me.

"Hey" he said smoothly, "Wanna dance?" I made a _Why Not_ face and got up, my head spinning. He led me to the dance floor and we started dancing to some stupid song. "Name?" he asked abruptly. I felt like I was trying to get into a club with a guest list.

"Suze. You?" I drawled drunkenly. It would be kinda stalker-ish to admit that I already knew his name.

"Scott" he answered, before kissing me hard on the lips. He grabbed me toward him, his hands hovering near my ass, while he pried my lips open with his tongue. I sighed mentally, but obliged.

"Ew. Get a room." said somebody from behind us. He pulled away – which made me stumble – and raised an eyebrow at me. I nodded – I couldn't fall over if I was on a bed. He led me up the stairs – okay, practically carried me up the stairs – to an empty bedroom. He didn't bother with the blankets of the bed, just pushed me down and climbed over me. The foreplay was kinda cut short. But he sucked at kissing – ha – so I didn't really care. He took my clothes off, and then his own. Same old shit.

_Well_, I thought, as he removed my underwear, _at least I know this one's name_.

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**I know, right?**

_**Very**_** different Suze.**

**Jesse's coming next chapter. Promise.  
**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey people.**

**Chapter 2 is up really quickly...**

**So enjoy :)**

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I woke the next morning dreary, but not really hung-over. I handle my alcohol, thankyouverymuch. I was still in the bedroom that I'd, uh, slept in last night. I went downstairs to find various people asleep on various things. As soon as I noticed the red hair fanned out across the armrest of a couch, I went to go shake Felicity awake. She blinked up at me groggily and then furrowed her brow as if confused. "Suze. What the fuck?" I rolled my eyes.

"Felicity, get your fat ass up and give me your keys. I'm going home." She groaned.

"Aww, Suze. It's too early. Go back to sleep." I put on my best PMS expression.

"Felicity. Keys. _Now_" I growled.

She sighed. "Whatever, Queen bitch. Let me get the others up and I'll drop you all at home."

Ten minutes later, I was back to the familiar surroundings of my bedroom. I collapsed on my bed and turned my head to the side, which alerted me to the red light on my answering machine. I had two messages.

"_Suze. It's Ryan. Just wanted to see how you were. So, uhh, give me a call, babe. See ya."_

I cringed. Babe? Ugh. Ryan was getting too close. We were kind of dating, but it wasn't exactly exclusive. It was time to get rid of him. I clicked the delete button.

"_Suze, baby! It's Leanne here, from the agency. We need you to stop by. Few things to sign, yeah? Also, you got a shoot coming up on Wednesday, remember? We need to talk deeps. See you soon, honey."_

It clicked off. I sighed and hit the delete button again. I would have to go to Ryan's, then the agency.

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Ryan answered the door in a t-shirt and boxers. I spared a tiny smile. "Did I wake you?"

He just shook his head, and led me into his apartment. He continued walking once we were inside, until we were in his bedroom. I sat on his bed and opened my mouth to talk until he sat next to me on the bed and pushed me back abruptly onto the mattress. He climbed on top of me, kissing me sweetly on the lips, his hands roaming my body. I smiled. Ryan was, by far, the best kisser I have met. It was when his hands started on the buttons of my shirt that I sobered up. I pushed him away, which only served to confuse him. He reached for me again, but I shook my head.

"Ryan." I said in a flat voice, "I'm breaking up with you"

He sighed. "Is this because of your dad?" He asked. My dad wasn't happy about me seeing Ryan – he knew what we were doing – mostly because of the age difference. You see, I'm 16...but Ryan is 21. He didn't like that so much.

"Not really," I said truthfully, "I just need to be single a while, y'know?" He nodded. He was taking this well. "Uh, well...I'll see you around, I guess" I said, as I walked to the door. _Another one_, I thought, _gone.

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_

I was sitting at a bar with Felicity later that night – thank god we could ditch the Barbies – when something caught my eye. It was a tall, dark Latino guy, maybe 20, dancing with some chick. They were obviously friends – I could tell from the way they were dancing. I noticed how good looking he was as I checked him out. He was wearing a black short-sleeved shirt and some basic blue jeans. But I could tell, from the way he filled them out, he was _built._ As if he felt my gaze, he turned around to look at me, locking our eyes together. I stared, dumbfounded for a second, before blushing and averting my gaze to my drink. God, what the hell was wrong with me? I do not _blush! _

About ten minutes later, I looked up from Felicity's face to see the same guy standing there, smiling with what looked like amusement. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked in a deep voice which hinted at Spanish roots. Huh, makes sense. Spanish guy, Spanish voice. I looked at him for a moment, as if trying to decide, before nodding my head. He took my hand and led me to the dance floor, which was kinda crowded. We danced to a few fast songs first, which was good. He was a good dancer. When a slow song came on, I looked up at him, daringly. He accepted, taking my hands in his and placing them around his neck, before bringing his own to my waist, holding me there gently. My skin tingled at his touch, which only served to confuse me. I looked up, and noticed his eyes for the first time, close up. They were, like, hypnotizing or something. (**A/N**...Nobody accused this Suze of being poetic. lol) They were so dark; I couldn't distinguish the pupils from the irises. "What's your name?" He asked softly. I smiled. _Classic_.

"Suze" I stated, smiling.

He smiled back. "Short for something?"

I nodded."Susannah" I explained. This was probably the most interest a guy had ever taken in my name. "What about you?" I asked him, raising my eyebrows.

"Jesse" He said, smiling.

"Jesse" I repeated, testing the name on my tongue. He chuckled softly and pulled me closer to him, pressing our bodies together. I looked up at him and he brushed a lock of hair back off my face, his touch lingering on my temple. He traced his finger down the side of my face, over my jaw and down to the curve of my neck.

And then his lips were on mine, caressing and gentle. It was as if he just wanted to savour the moment, not rush ahead into anything. This kiss was very different to anything I'd ever experienced before. I had begun to think there was something wrong with me – a tongue halfway down my throat and a meaty paw groping at my chest never did anything for me – but as I said, Jesse's kiss was different. It sent shivers all through my body. After a while, he broke away to trail slow kisses down my neck, his fingers teasing the skin on my back between my skirt and top. As if noticing something, he suddenly broke away from me, looking at something over my shoulder. He nodded once.

"I have to go" he said, a little glumly. I sighed.

"Will I see you again?" Oh god, that sounded clingy. Freaking _clingy!_

"Of course, _querida_" He said, bending down to kiss me once, before leaving.

_Huh. Querida. I'll have to look that up_, I thought, as I made my way back to the table I was sitting at before. Krystal was texting on her phone, but she snapped it shut when she saw me.

"Who was that?" She asked, excited.

I blinked. "I have no idea"

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**So, there's Jesse. As promised.**

**I think i want..5 reviews before i update?**

**'Cause, y'know, i have a life and stuff. *coughs***

**Lol, so review, if you want me to keep going :)**

**Love Kassy  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone.**

**Thankyouu for the reviews. Much appreciated.**

**Morgan: Uh, not quite sure why he had to go. I just needed him to go then :) lol  
**

**So here's chapter three, my little muffins**

**Enjoy.

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"Suze!" I heard Krystal call out from behind me. I rolled my eyes and kept walking.

"I have to go to Mrs. Clarke's office." I said shortly, making a dismissive hand gesture at Krystal when she caught up with me. I didn't know – or care, frankly – what she did after that, because I didn't turn around at all. I stopped in front of the door that had _**Headmistress**_written on it, and knocked three times, before opening the door.

Ugh. I'd been in here _waaaaaaay_ too much during my time at this retarded school.

"Ah, Susannah" she said, looking up at me. She was such a stereotype – hair in a bun, black skirt, white blouse, glasses. Her whole appearance just _screamed_ Headmistress. I looked down on her in that condescending way I look at most people – like she was wasting my time. "Have a seat" I rolled my eyes and sat down in the chair opposite her desk. "Now, Susannah. I have noticed a somewhat dramatic change in your behaviour since you lost you mother." She said, tersely. I crossed my arms, looking at her, speculatively. "Now, I understand that it has only been 5 months, but I'm afraid that we cannot continue like this."

Have you ever noticed that when teachers say _we_ they always mean _you_? As in, _you_ really fucked up, didn't _you_? "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Clarke-" I said, feigning innocence "-but I don't understand what you mean." She looked at me, chiding and disapproving.

"Susannah-"she tried a different plan, "we have fully qualified counsellors that can help you with this. You don't need to suffer in silence" She said, reaching what she thought was a comforting hand across the desk to me. And really, how could I _not _roll my eyes? Did she honestly expect me to break down into tears, and sob to her how _shit_ my life is, and how _terribly unhappy_ I am? This was what everybody was like. They thought I'd be broken, because my mom was dead. They wanted to stop fearing me. But that was _so_ not going to happen. This was _my_ school. I stifled a snigger, which she didn't seem to notice. Obviously, taking my silence as a sign that I was listening, she blathered on.

"I believe that if we find the source of this behaviour, we can target it there" I swear, if I rolled my eyes one more time, they'd just roll right back into my head.

Then, she just threw all tact out the window, and asked me the most retarded question ever; "How are you holding up?" How the hell did she freaking think I was holding up? What a frigging idiot! My mom just died for god's sake. Granted, I hadn't cried over it, or anything. I didn't feel remorseful in the slightest. My mom annoyed the shit out of me when she was alive, and people annoyed the shit out of me – asking questions and being oh-so-concerned – when she was dead. I just couldn't get away from it, could I?

"I'm doing just fine, thankyou, Mrs. Clarke" I said snobbily. But hey, that's what a private, all-girl's catholic school does to you, okay? Give me a break. She narrowed her eyes, as if finally understanding that she wasn't going to get anything out of me.

"Well, that said," she backtracked from concern, apparently just remembering that she was having a 'serious' talk with me "I must talk to you about something that has very recently come to my attention. As a senior, your behaviour should set an example for the younger students. I'm afraid that you haven't been showing me anything remotely exemplary, Susannah. A girl from your year, Lily Winters, has told me about things you and your friends have said to her. And frankly, Susannah" She continued, her tone adopting disapproval, "I'm very disappointed in you."

_You don't say._

"Mrs. Clarke, I don't understand why Lily has told you these things. Lily and I get along very well. I don't understand why she would say these things about me" Ugh. It's kinda sad that the lies came so perfectly natural to me.

"Susannah, I have no doubt that what Lily has told me is true." She said in a stern voice, "But I am willing to overlook it if it does not happen again. Understood?" Oh, gosh, she was just _so intimidating._ I shrugged, which made her sigh. "You may be excused, Susannah. " She said tiredly, like her patience was wearing thin. I stood up to leave, but her voice stopped me as soon as my hand was on the doorhandle. "Pull down that skirt!" She said sternly, before adding, "And I don't want to see that tattoo!" I turned around and smiled sweetly.

"But miss. I don't believe tattoos are against the dress code" She narrowed her eyes as I sauntered out of her office with a triumphant smile on my face.

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I was sitting at our table, in the cafeteria at lunchtime, describing these new Jimmy Choos that I had just bought, when Lily Winters came to sit at our table. I ignored her at first, I mean, I was only being nice, but then she had to go and touch me. She reached out her hand and laid it on my forearm. I suddenly stopped what I was saying and moved my gaze down to her grubby hand. I stared at it a moment, until she finally jerked it away. I continued with the Choos conversation. "Yeah, they've got these tiny silver studs on them, you know, like-" I was saying, but then Lily cut me off.

"Suze. Can I talk to you a moment?" I didn't acknowledge her at all, so she tried again. "Susannah. Please, I want to talk to you" I looked at her properly for the first time, and stared at her in the face with an oh-this-should-be-good expression. "Suze, I just wanted to say...I'm really sorry about your mom." She said in a small voice.

"What? What are you sorry about?" I asked, nonchalantly.

"Well, that...that she _died" _She choked out the last word with difficulty.

I shrugged noncommittally "And why are you here?"

"I thought you'd be different!" She said, her voice rising. Every head in the cafeteria had turned to look at us now. "Your mom _died_, and you're too much of a _bitch_ to even _register _it!" I smiled, quite amused.

"Listen, sweetie," I said condescendingly "So I'm one parent less. That still doesn't change the fact that you gave that drug-fuck a blowjob, and now everyone knows you're a skeevy slut. _**Sucks**_ to be you, huh?" She was close to tears, I could tell.

"_That was a mistake!"_ she exclaimed shrilly. I smirked, picking up my Diet Coke before slowly pouring it into the handbag she had rested on the table.

"Oops" I said innocently, curling my fingers in front of my mouth "That was a mistake too. But I'm sure you'll forgive me, right, Lills?" I smiled at her. She snatched her handbag up, before bursting into tears and running from the cafeteria. I just laughed and told Roxy to go get me a new Diet Coke.

Every girl was staring at me, when my phone rang. I checked the caller I.d before flipping it open. "Hello, Leanne?"

"Oh, my god!" I heard this sophomore say to her friend, "I heard that that Leanne chick is her agent. Apparently she's like, a part time model" I smirked as I listened to Leanne's chatter about the photo shoot Wednesday. At least somebody had got some gossip right.

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**Lol sorry if that was a little...boring.**

**I kinda had to set up the mentality, you know...**

**In other words, this Suze is a_ bitch :)_**

**Review?  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone.**

**Not much to say...**

**So here's Chapter 4 :)**

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The next time I saw Jesse was that Wednesday.

I was sitting outside the agency, smoking and enjoying the sun when he walked past. He stopped when he saw me and smiled, looking surprised. I took a long drag on my cigarette before smushing it into the step I was sitting on. _Ugh. _I thought._ How does he manage to look so good?_ He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, his gaze raking over me appreciatively, as I imagine mine was to him. It was then that I remembered that my hair and make-up was still professionally done from the shoot.

_God, Suze. What did you expect? That he'd find you pretty without all that make-up?_

I closed my eyes for a moment, until Jesse's voice roused me from my thoughts.

"What are you doing?" He asked, in his rich, velvet voice, with that _tiny_ hint of an accent.

"Figuring out what to do with the rest of my day" I answered truthfully.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" He asked, curiously. I nodded, which made him chuckle.

"And what are you doing sitting here?" he asked, "...outside a modelling agency?"

"Oh, I just had a shoot" I said nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders like I had shoots every week.

_...which I did._

He raised his eyebrows. "You're a model?" He asked, surprise obvious on his face.

I smirked to myself. "Is that so hard to believe?" I teased. His eyes flicked over me once more.

"No." He said softly, "Not at all" His voice sounded deeper than usual. I smiled, yet again.

"And where should you be, Jesse?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I don't have any classes today" He replied. Obviously, he meant college. I sighed. I just felt so _tired._ He seemed to be thinking about something.

"Come on" he said, suddenly "I'll buy you lunch" I looked down at my D&G watch and was surprised to see that it was 12:00 already. I thought for a second.

"Okay."

We walked for roughly five minutes, in silence. I was about to open my mouth to make _some_ conversation, when Jesse stopped. Upon looking up, I was informed by a fancy sign that we were at _La Italia Vittoria_. It seemed to be a restaurant.

_Um, duh, Suze._

We were seated in a booth – after being shown there by a guy in a suit, no less – a few minutes later, when the waiter came to take our orders.

Jesse ordered a hamburger.

I ordered a salad.

Jesse seemed to be amused by something.

"What?" I asked him, once the waiter had gone. He shook his head, smiling to himself.

"A salad?" he finally said. Oh, so this was about food. I shrugged noncommittally.

"I'm a model" I said, as if that cleared up everything. Actually, it kinda did. He nodded. Moments later, a waiter came back with our food.

And we ate.

"So what school do you go to?" He asked, between mouthfuls.

I nibbled on a piece of lettuce. "Sacred heart" I answered. He winced. "What?" I asked.

"Sacred-heart-school-for-girls?" He asked, amused. I nodded. "Where do you live? Like, Pine Crest Avenue, or something?" I blushed, looking down at the faux wood of the table. My street was one of the more...upper class parts of town. Actually, it was pretty much the swankiest street in Carmel. "Really?" he laughed, noticing my blush. I looked back up at him.

"My, uh, dad is a professor at the college" I said, my blush fading.

_"This is a very important job for me, Susannah" he'd said, towering over me in that intimidating way that he loves. I nodded. "You will not disgrace our name with your constant...promiscuity" he continued, just managing to find the word._

_"Are you trying to call me a _slut_?" I asked incredulously. His expression turned livid._

_"Do not talk back to me, girl!" he roared. Its funny how that one little word can make me feel so small, so insignificant. Girl. I was just a girl to him. Not his daughter, not Susannah. I was 'girl'._

_"Well maybe if you were around more, I would actually be able to talk to you, instead of talking back" I said darkly, my heart pounding in my chest._

_Mistake._

_My cheek stung from the hand that branded it. I gasped sharply at the pain._

_"Don't you dare..." he trailed off meaningfully, letting out a breath._

_"I don't want to hear you speak, girl. Now get out of my sight." Quivering, I turned, walked up the stairs, and slammed my bedroom door shut._

_And then I cried._

_For the first time._

I shuddered, and turned my gaze back to Jesse. He was nodding. "Fair enough" he said, about my family's fiscal matters. I silently thanked god that he didn't ask about my mom.

"So where do you live?" I asked when we were both finished. Jesse opened his mouth to answer, but another voice cut in.

"How are we doing, sir?" asked the waiter. Jesse looked up.

"We're ready for the check, thankyou" he said in a smooth voice.

"Of course, sir" the waiter pulled a black leather notebook from his pocket and handed it to Jesse, who slipped a few notes in and handed it back.

"Apartment" Jesse said, once the waiter had gone. I was confused for a second, until I remembered the conversation that we were having.

"You'll have to show me one day" I said, making conversation. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I'll show you now."

"Okay" I obliged, smiling. As we walked out of the restaurant together, I imagined how it must have looked to everybody else. I smiled at the thought. A happy couple – a normal boy and girl dating; possibly in love.

But then my face fell.

Because I wasn't a normal girl. I was this stupid, excessively, fucked up girl who was in a world of trouble. I looked down at my feet as Jesse took my hand and started walking with him. He seemed to think this was completely natural. Did he know when I had last held a guy's hand? Of course not. That would have been, oh, in grade school? Guys usually preferred to hold my legs now.

_...if you know what I mean._

"I'm parked on the street over there" Jesse told me, rousing me from my thoughts once again. I was about to ask him why he was walking when I first saw him, until I saw his car. It was a sleek, black M5 convertible. I smiled at the beautiful little hood ornament that had those three wonderful letters;

_BMW_

It was new, too. Shiny and oh-so-pretty. I was about to open the passenger door when I heard an angry voice shout my name. "Suze!" Paul Slater said, walking towards me. I groaned, which seemed to make Jesse amused.

_Gah!_

"What's going on, Suze? Who is he?" Paul inquired. What he was even doing out of school at this hour, I did not know.

"More importantly, who are _you_?" Jesse asked.

"I'm her boyfriend!" Paul said angrily. Then an idea hit me.

I turned around to face him, rising on my toes, so that our lips were only an inch apart.

_"Oh, Paul" _I murmured seductively

"...I think you mean _ex_-boyfriend."

With that, I promptly slapped him across the face, turned around, and got into Jesse's car, leaving Paul standing there, looking stunned.

"Drive" I said to Jesse, my voice coming out huskier than I'd intended.

He revved the engine and sped off.

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**Well, there's Paul. He's not a major character in this story, but he is in a lot of it later on.**

**Also, I'm pretty sure Suze's actual street is called Pine Crest Road, but Avenue sounded a little more posh.** :)

**You know the deal...Review and i'll update :)**

**Love Kassy**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hey everybody**_

_**Sorry i havent been on this one for a while...**_

_**But i was updating rough, and then my computer broke..**_

_**But its all good now :)**_

_**Thanks for asking.**_

_**Here's chapter 5**_

_**Enjoy...**_

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It was Jesse who broke the awkward silence.

"Paul Slater?" he asked, obviously amused. I raised an eyebrow at him, not trusting myself to speak. "You went out with Paul Slater?" he tried again. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"No. We were just..." I hesitated a second longer than was believable, "friends." He chuckled quietly.

"With benefits, obviously…" He murmured so faintly that I had to dip my head to catch the words. I narrowed my eyes at him, and felt my upper lip automatically curling into a sneer. I fought to control myself – it was such a natural reaction. _He's just joking, Suze._

"How do you know him anyway?" I asked, trying to change the subject. He shrugged.

"His father works for mine." I blinked in surprise – Paul's dad was a lawyer. Which meant the Jesse's dad was the owner of a huge law firm. No wonder Jesse's car was so impressive.

The wind was whipping my hair everywhere – Jesse had put the top down – but I didn't even care. I was in such a good mood…it was rather surprising. All of a sudden, Jesse pulled the car into the parking lot of a huge apartment building. While I was admiring it – it must have cost a pretty penny for his parents – Jesse came around and opened my door for me. I felt my brows pulling together instinctively, and I was _this close_ to telling him I didn't need help, but I just decided shut my mouth before I could fuck up the mood. I followed him as he walked inside, up a flight of stairs and to an apartment door. He fumbled a little before retrieving a key from his pocket, and unlocking the door.

My jaw dropped a good four centimetres.

The apartment was huge. And I mean _huge. _It was painted in light colours, making it seem even more spacious. There was an open plan kitchen to my left, which was – surprisingly – clean, like the rest of the apartment. Huh. They must have a maid or something. To my right was the living room, equipped with a huge plasma screen and some little game console things that I'd never seen before. But then again, I'd never really been that into gaming type stuff, so they could have been anything. There were four white doors on the far wall, which I assumed led to bedrooms or something similar. What caught my eye, however, were the two guys sitting on the sofa in front of the plasma screen, with their backs to us.

"De Silva!" said one of them, without turning to look at us. Jesse took my hand again – really, what was his fascination with that? – And led me over to where they were. They looked up as we approached, both pairs of eyes lingering on me. I stifled an eye roll and managed a tiny smile.

"Susannah," said Jesse from beside me, "this is Corey and Scott." He gestured to the two guys on the couch. The first one – Corey I think – was blonde, fair skinned and built like a football player. The other – Scott – was dark, with green eyes and clad in designer labels that looked even more expensive than my own. I waggled my fingers uncomfortably, the sides of my mouth twisting into an awkward smile. "Corey, Scott, this is Susannah." Jesse continued finishing his introduction.

"Suze." I corrected him, "He refuses to call me Suze for some reason." Corey looked up and smiled suggestively. What an idiot.

At that moment, my gold bangle – the one I'd had since I was 10 – slid off my wrist and landed on the ground. When I bent down to retrieve it, my skirt rode up and I heard a wolf whistle come from the couch. I straightened up, blushing like mad, and noticed Jesse looking at me with a confused expression on his face. He turned to Scott briefly and gave him a hard look.

"Watch it." He said, about the whistle. He looked back at me again with that odd expression back on his face. "Susannah," he said in a curious voice, "is there...was there...makeup on your back?" I sagged in relief and let out a little giggle – I had thought he was going to question me about something serious, but he was confused about cover-up?

"Well, we aren't supposed to have tattoos at the agency, and I had a bikini shoot today, so they covered it up with make-up." I explained, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"You have a ta-" Jesse said, but Scott cut in.

"Wait. You're a model?" he asked a little incredulously. I nodded. He whistled, long and low. "Well done, De Silva!" I smiled uncomfortably and turned around to answer Jesse's question.

"Yeah, I have a tattoo," I said, hoping he wasn't one of those guys that hated them. I rubbed my hand across my lower back and sure enough, my tattoo appeared.

"What does it say?" Jesse asked, trying to make sense of the vernacular.

"It's the Japanese symbol for beauty." I admitted, admiring it myself.

"Well chosen." He said with a smirk. I smiled up at him.

"So...are you going to show me the rest of the apartment?" I asked coyly. He took me by the wrist and led me to one of the doors in the lounge room, pulling me inside the room on the other side and slamming the door behind us. The curtains were closed, and Jesse hadn't turned on the light switch, so I couldn't make sense of where we were. My focus shifted from my lack of sight however, when I felt Jesse's hard body pressing me up against the door. He kissed me hungrily, a moan low in his throat. I echoed his moan in surprise, before gaining my sense again and sliding my arms around his neck. His fingertips were tracing patterns on my hips, grazing my skin. I shivered in pleasure as his hands moved to the small of my back, urging me to him. It gave me a small sense of satisfaction, feeling our bodies fit into each other's perfectly. I took his bottom lip into my mouth briefly, before releasing it again. He let out a low groan, goading me. My fingertips came up to the curls at the back of his neck, luxuriating in the feeling. He mimicked me, one of his hands coming up my back and into my hair, while his other arm wrapped around me, pressing me closer against him. After a while, Jesse broke his mouth away from mine, breathing heavily. He reached a hand up to flick on the light switch and i blinked furiously, trying to adjust my eyes to the light.

"Well," he said, confirming my suspicions, "this is my bedroom." I giggled a little, before standing on my toes to claim his mouth with mine once more.

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_**Reviews up to 20 till I update...?**_

_**Please...with um, cherries & stuff?**_

_**Love Kassy**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hey everybody.**_

_**I had this written yesterday, but for some reason, Document manager wasnt working?**_

_**Fantasy's forever: Yeah he was like that in the book, but im just taking certain thing from it. :)**_

_**So...Enjoy?**_

_**

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**_

We hadn't done anything yet.

I'd known Jesse for a week now, and all we'd done was kiss.

This was what I was thinking about when my father's voice boomed up the stairs.

"Susannah! Get down here right now!" he yelled.

_Oh god._

I threw a few things together in an oversized handbag – some clothes, shoes, my wallet, my phone – found some sturdy shoes I never knew I had, pulled on a coat, and retrieved two $50 notes from Dad's wallet, which was sitting on his desk in the study. The sight that met me downstairs was what I had expected. My Dad was standing there, a letter in his hand, his face red with anger. I knew who the letter was from without even having to ask. I sighed in an _oh-so-blasé_ way and sat down on one of the dining room chairs.

"Susannah wears inappropriate clothes to school," he started reading from the letter in a dark, menacing voice, "fails to comply with simple school rules, and refuses to cover her_tattoo!" _His voice rose on the last word, and I had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes do a decent job of popping out of his head. "You're sixteen years old! How on earth did you manage to get a tattoo?" he roared. I shrugged. It actually was a little difficult getting the tattoo without parental consent, but let's just say, I can be very_...persuasive._

"Get out of my house, you...you _scum." _He said quietly, disgust lacing each word. I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling and hurried out of the door, closing it quietly behind me.

"Surprise!" I said meekly, when Jesse opened the door to his apartment. He looked a little confused but his expression quickly changed to one of happiness.

"Susannah? Come in." I smiled thinly, even though I felt like crying. I walked in and sighed as I collapsed onto the couch that Jesse friends had been sitting on last time I'd been here. Jesse came around and sat next to me, looking at me curiously. I rested my head on his shoulder and tried not to cry.

"Can I stay the night?" I murmured softly. He rested his hand on my knee, palm down, in a comforting gesture.

"Of course." He said in a voice laced with confusion, "Is something...wrong?" I looked up at him and scrutinized his face for a moment. His expression was one of concern. Jesse cared about me...and I wasn't dropping him. It was weird. Usually when a guy was like this, it turned me right off. But being connected with Jesse on an emotional level just made me like him more.

"No." I whispered, not even fooling myself.

"You don't have to be like that with me, Susannah." He said, in a soft voice.

"Be like what?" I asked, not looking at him.

"Like this. Pretending that everything's okay, when really it isn't." A tear slid down my cheek and I knew he felt it on his skin, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Nothing's wrong, Jesse." I tried to change the subject. "Where are your roommates?" I felt his body tense when I told him nothing was wrong.

"They're out." He said in a harsh voice. "And if nothing's wrong, then why are you here?" I took my head from his shoulder and turned to look at him.

"What, so I'm not allowed to come and visit my..." I stopped, not quite knowing what to call him. His upper lip curled hatefully, and he abruptly stood up, standing in front of me in the very position that my father used when he wanted to yell at me.

"Your what, Susannah?" he spat acidly, looking down at me with no small amount of distaste. "What am I to you? The same as all those other men?" he asked scornfully.

"W-what?" I asked, perplexed. How could he have known about all the other guys?

"Oh, I know about you, _Susannah."_ He said, spitting my name out as if it were a profanity, "With a different man _every single night."_ He was pacing up and down in front of me now, looking at me as if I were trash. My lip started trembling again and I felt the tears threatening to fall.

"But...but this is different." I cried, misery contorting my face into an ugly expression. He halted his pacing then, stopping right in front of me. He smiled cruelly.

"How? Because I haven't screwed you yet?" He sneered, looking me up and down with contempt. "I'd probably catch something." He said, disgust lacing every word. I sat up straight and squared my shoulders.

"Fine. Fuck you then." I spat lamely, before standing up, grabbing my bag and storming out of there. I slammed the door as hard as I could when I walked out.

_See, Suze? This is what happens when you let them in._

I didn't cry until I got into the elevator. By the time the doors opened on the ground floor, all traces of the stupid, pointless waterworks were gone. I looked at my watch. It was 8:46.

I was sitting at the bar in a club about ten minutes later, talking to some guy that kept looking at my chest and trying to consume as much alcohol as I could. Because if I got totally drunk, I wouldn't have to think anymore.

Half an hour later, I emerged from the men's toilets after the guy I was sitting with before, a light sheen of sweat over me. I didn't remember much about the past ten minutes, just snippets, like a contorted movie. There was the crinkle of the condom packet ripping, and then I was against the wall, and he was holding me there, coaxing me all the while. He whispered things to me the whole time, about how it was okay, and how I wanted it...I preferred not to remember. I went to go sit at the bar again, but I recognized the black hair of the guy that was sitting there. The lights were swimming in my head as I clutched my stomach, woozy on my feet. I slipped and fell onto the floor, with people continuing to dance around me. I somehow managed to crawl over to a red booth that hurt my eyes, and I collapsed there, not caring about anything but the pounding in my head. I heard a groan and realized afterwards that it was my own.

"Suze. Suze?" I heard somebody calling my name from beside me. I sat up quickly – regretting the action instantly – thinking it was Jesse. I slumped forward, feeling somebody's hands on my back, rubbing circles there.

"What?" I groaned, feeling like I'd swallowed sandpaper.

"Suze. Sober the fuck up. It's us. What the fuck are you doing here?" I heard Felicity, but it was as if she was yelling from far, far away.

"Mmm...Jesse's..." I tried, but then decided that talking was a bad idea. I slumped forward, dimly registering the table connecting with my forehead.

"Oh, fuck it. Let's just leave her here." Roxy spat nastily.

"Yeah, it's not like she's ever been anything but a bitch to us." Krystal sniped. I heard Felicity make a hmm-ing noise, before she agreed with them.

"She's just a slut." She said simply, in a toneless voice. "Bye Suze. You're finished." I heard the clicking of their shoes as they walked away.

When I felt a little more sober, I pulled my knees to my chest, staring out at nothing. I looked up as Jesse approached the booth I was sitting at.

"Those were your friends?" he asked tersely, obviously still mad at me. I nodded. "Why did they just walk away from you?" I looked up at him.

"Because I'm not very _nice_." I said, trying – but failing – to not slur my words. He looked at me for a moment, trying to see if I was joking or not. "It's true." I said, my voice rising and falling in all the wrong places, "I'm a total bitch. Ask anyone." He ignored me.

"Why did you drink so much?" he asked incredulously. My head lolled back and I sighed.

"Because it made me feel better, okay?" I said defensively. He sneered down at me.

"Oh, come on. What have you got to feel bad about in your life? Daddy won't buy you a new Porsche?" He laughed without humour, making my eyes narrow into slits of disdain.

"Don't you dare." I growled in a voice that sounded unnaturally sober. "Don't you _fucking_ dare pretend you know _one_ _fucking thing_ about my life." I said between gritted teeth, alcohol inspiring me to use as many cusses as I could.

"I know you're a poor little rich girl. What's wrong? Mommy doesn't love you anymore?" he teased. My face fell as soon as he mentioned my mother.

"No." I said in a quiet, reserved voice."She doesn't." He smiled and his voice took on a sick parody of concern.

"Aww. What'd you do?"

"Nothing." I said simply, in a flat voice. "She's the one that died." His smile faltered then.

"What? When?" he asked, obviously unnerved. I laughed and a hollow, humourless sound escaped my throat.

"The night I lost my virginity. The night that I was _raped." _I said, cringing at the word. "Two weeks, maybe, before I screwed a guy for a free tattoo." I lied, feeling the anger bubbling to the surface. "So yeah, a few months before I met you. All falling into place now?" He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't want to hear it. I strode from the club, walking as straight as I could – which was quite straight, actually – and out into the street. I sobered up as I greedily gulped in the cold night air, sitting down on the sidewalk and pulling a cigarette from my bag. The club door opened when I had taken a few drags and I looked up to see Jesse standing next to me.

"Please," I whispered faintly, "Just leave me alone." He looked down and frowned at me before turning around and walking away into the night.

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_**Okay, i'm sorry about the fight. Don't flame me for it lol :)**_

**_Review?_**

**_Love, Kassy_**


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey everybody._

_I looked back on the last few chapters and cringed._

_A lot._

_So hopefully this one will be better._

_Enjoy._

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I didn't sleep at all that night. Not one of forty winks, or whatever it was. Because if you think about it, I had no place to sleep anyway.

_...Scum..._

Disconcerting thoughts attacked my mind during the freezing nine or so hours of night, reminding me just how low I actually was. I felt so completely defeated. My father didn't want to see me in his house. My friends had abandoned me because I was such a spiteful bitch to them. And Jesse...well, I tried to prevent thinking of Jesse as much as possible. Because yeah, a homeless person clad in designer, sitting at a kid's park, crying her eyes out? That's some serious mindfuck.

I always used to know myself as the tough girl – the girl who never cried. The girl who never let emotions bubble to the surface and claim her. The girl who was beautiful, popular and in control. But within nine hours, I realized the truth. I wasn't popular for being nice; I wasn't well liked. I was popular for being a bitch. I was only _considered_ popular because all the other girls in my school were scared of me. I certainly wasn't in control of my life – I just had to look around myself to realize that truth – and I wasn't beautiful. The only reason guys slept with me was because I had a nice body. My outfit reminded me of what a young prostitute might wear. People paid to see my body in next to nothing. I was _sixteen_, and already I was being sold in magazines. I felt so utterly ashamed of myself. More than that, I _disgusted_ myself.

And now I knew I wasn't the only person I disgusted. Jesse's words were still fresh in my mind, making a pathetic mess of misery spill from my eyes.

_...I'd probably catch something..._

I understood the implication of the phrase, but I couldn't help taking it harshly. It shattered my world when he'd snarled it at me. I'd just began to feel differently about Jesse; I actually believed he would be the one to stick by me. I thought he'd cared about me. God, I was so naive. No girl should have to hear what he'd said to me. Even if they did deserve it.

Not to say that I had any icky stuff going on, but I could see where it came from. I may as well be infected, considering the amount of men I'd slept with since my mother's death. I was already infected with so many different sins – lust, wrath, pride, greed. Fuck, why not just add the other three and become a fat, lazy, envious bitch?

I wasn't a good person.

_But my mother was._

I should have been the one that died.

_Not her._

Thinking about my mother brought more tears to my eyes – old, strange tears that felt like they'd been held within me for a long time. I'd _never_ shed a tear for my mother, but I guess they had to come out sometime. I absentmindedly wondered if tears could ever dry up. You hear about it all the time in songs;_ No tears left to cry,_ and all that poetic shit, but I wondered if you could ever physically run out of tears.

The night was freezing cold – it was, after all, the middle of September – and I was shivering in my skimpy little shorts and top. Stupid slutty clothes; they were so impractical. I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to cover some of my exposed skin, but it wasn't doing anything for my body temperature. I seemed to be cold a lot of the time lately, no matter how warm the air around me was. My lighter flickered as I lit a cigarette, before promptly cutting off indefinitely. A mournful sigh escaped my lips when I realized that my cigarette didn't light after all, but I couldn't be bothered going to the store to get another lighter.

The harsh cold wind bit into my skin, making goosebumps appear on my arms and legs. I rubbed my hands over them in a futile gesture to get warm. I stopped after a moment, though. I deserved to be cold. I deserved to suffer.

I was listening to my iPod when dawn arrived, bringing with it an infinitesimal flicker of warmth and comfort. A few joggers passed me in the hour next to come, and a random old lady tried to slip me a twenty. I shook my head and stood up, stretching out my muscles to remove any kinks that had buried themselves overnight, before making my way to the convenience store a few blocks away. After buying a new lighter and some cigarettes – I don't know how I look 21, exactly, but whatever – I walked out to the bench on the footpath and sunk down onto it.

I didn't move from that bench until five in the afternoon. It's surprising how long a packet of cigarettes can last when you smoke them slowly. Being, of course, a Sunday, the impending idea of going to school was making me feel sick. I didn't know where to stay – for all I knew, I'd end up in a fucking homeless shelter. Only one idea planted itself in my mind, and I didn't exactly want to go for it.

I took the long walk to the Carmel cemetery, walking with a slight sway in my step. Her grave, I knew from the funeral, was somewhere in the back of the cemetery. My feet had a mind of their own as they led me down an old path, through a huge burial ground and to a new-looking black tombstone. I kneeled in front of it as I felt the tears seep from my eyes. God, could I stop it with the fucking crying today? I guess the tears had been waiting for a while now, because I felt them fall one after another, rapidly down my cold face.

_Here lies, Helen Simon._

_1968 - 2009_

_Beloved mother, daughter and friend._

I crawled towards the headstone, reaching out to touch the gold script etched into the smooth black marble. I traced every single letter with my finger, reading it out loud to myself slowly. I'd never come here, not since the funeral. I was so mad at her for leaving me, that I'd convinced myself she didn't deserve my attention. She was the only thing that kept me on the rails before, and once she went, I flew right off. I remember the fight we had before that night as clearly as if it had happened only very recently.

She'd disapproved of my outfit, of course, because I was going to an 'older kid's' party. Little did she know that I actually went to these every weekend, when lying about staying at Krystal's. I guess I should have listened to her, because in the end it was the outfit I got raped in that she detested.

"_You can't be serious, Suze. You're not wearing that to a party! You look like a prostitute." She'd said, hazel eyes flashing angrily._

"_Shut up, mom. I'll wear what I want." She turned around to my father then, trying to get some kind of parenting support, I guess. They talked in hushed, rapid tones, as if they were fighting with each other. After a minute, she whipped around to face me again, long raven hair swinging around her shoulder._

"_Susannah," she'd said, in her most no-nonsense voice, "Go up to your room right now, and change your clothes."_

"_Fuck off," _were my exact words; I heard them in my head as I sat on her grave,_ "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't wear. I hope you fucking die, bitch."_

My laugh held no humour the next day, when my father's bloodshot eyes pierced into mine and told me what had happened. It was a choked, hollow sound that somehow escaped my throat instead of the ironic scoff I'd been aiming for.

The approaching twilight was somewhat of a wakeup call to me. As the light faded, I let go of the tombstone that I'd been sitting against – with my arms thrown haphazardously around the cold marble, as if it were trying to escape – and stood up again, wiping the tears from my face with the backs of my hands. The walk back to town was made in dismal misery; seeing the grave again – having proof that she was gone forever – had set me off. And I just _Could. Not. Stop. Crying!_

I contemplated my options on the somewhat long walk. I actually considered going to see Ryan again, but ultimately decided against it – I didn't want to be with a reminder of how I used to be.

But I wasn't really given any choice.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't go back to Ryan's – he'd be on top of me the moment I entered his apartment – but I did end up on the doorstep of a guy. I sighed out cigarette smoke as I rang the doorbell of the place I was standing in front of.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" A deep, masculine voice asked, tainted by a somewhat vast amount of irritation.

I took a long drag on my cigarette and turned my head to the side before exhaling.

"I need a place to stay for a while."

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_Please Review_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hey everybody._

_How awesome, right? It's been like, what, two days?_

_Well im on holidays now, so thats why the chapters are popping up like daisies._

_I just kind of blurted this out - its kinda rough but i wanted to upload it anyway._

_And i'm sorry about all the angst, for all you angst-haters out there. I just keep beating on poor little Suze, don't I? I guess I just have a lot of repressed angst._

_Angst, angst, angst._

_Yeah, originally Paul was gonna accept Suze and they were gonna be all chummy and stuff, but..._

_Angst._

_Anyway, i was kinda sad at the sudden lack-of-reviews. I think i got three or something last chapter. And rough was kinda the same. sigh. I'm just a greedy little review-whore, arent i?_

_Anyway, sorry. Shutting up now._

_Love,_

_Kassy._

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Paul shrugged noncommittally.

"Why should I care?" I closed my eyes and noticed how wet they were._ Oh god no_, I begged. I _cannot_ cry in front of him.

Funny, I always used to think the same thing about my father while he was punishing me.

I chose to avert my gaze to the ground, so if any traitorous tears happened to fall, he wouldn't see them.

"Paul, please." I murmured in a voice so low it could have been a whisper. I heard him sigh and shuffle uncomfortably. God, I was down to _begging_ for a place to stay. Could I be any more _pathetic, insignificant, low?_ Pick a word – this is all just a bowl of fucking cherries, isn't it?

"Okay. Say I let you stay here. What am I getting in return?" he asked tersely, making my stomach plummet to a new level. It was just like the rest of me – lower than I ever thought it could be.

How low can you _fucking_ go, right?

I realized then, that I wasn't going to get unless I gave something in return. So I forced a sly, seductive smile onto my face – one I'd never wanted to use again – and tilted my head slightly, looking up at him. Judging by Paul's reaction, it worked.

"Well, I'm sure we can think of something." I opted for a purr, but it sounded horribly choked to me. I felt like a prostitute – using my body to earn necessary comforts. If Paul noticed the way my voice broke, he didn't let on. He shrugged again and stepped to the side, letting me in to the mansion his parents owned. I stood there awkwardly in the foyer, feeling like an unwelcome guest.

_No, Suze. Paul totally wants you to be there._

_Cough._

"Um, where should I..." I asked ineptly, gesturing to my bag. He rolled his eyes – god, if he didn't want me here, he shouldn't have let me through his door.

"Room next to mine. It's a guest room. Don't mess it up." I nodded obediently and hurried up the stairs. _Anything_ to get away from those cold, piercing eyes.

I decided five minutes was more than enough time to get my stuff 'organized', so I reluctantly trudged down the stairs after a small glimpse of comfort. He was in the living room, sitting in one of the expensive recliners, rubbing his temples as if my mere presence was giving him a headache. I perched uncomfortably on the end of the couch – I didn't have any right to be sitting there.

"So, um, it's quiet," I said pointlessly, trying to make small talk with him so he wouldn't, I don't know, throw me out or something, "where are your parents?" He sighed again, running a large, tan hand through his dark curls.

"Dad's in LA. Mom's in Beverly Hills. I'm just here with the staff." His voice was tight and strained, and I decided that silence was perhaps the best option. I looked around the lavishly decorated living room and sighed inaudibly. I shouldn't have come here.

_Nah. Ya think, Suze?_

Paul's voice made me jump, snapping me out of my musings. The whole house was quiet, and his deep voice echoed off the high ceilings. "I don't want to see you, or hear you, unless I specifically ask for you. Am I making myself clear?" I shivered inevitably – he sounded just like my father. I nodded my head, but upon looking at him, I noticed his eyes were still closed. Like he couldn't bear to look at me. Like the mere sight of me disgusted him.

_Hey, know the feeling, buddy._

"Y-Yes." I choked out, with a voice like shrapnel.

"I want you...I want you in my room at-" he seemed to be deciding what was most convenient for him. Oh yeah, that's me; convenient. "-nine tonight. Understood?" My breath came in a gasp once I realized what I'd gotten myself into.

"Um..." I hesitated, desperately searching for some kind of excuse within me. I didn't find one. "...yeah" He nodded once, before gesturing up the stairs. I scrambled up them like the hounds of fucking hell were at my heels. My watch alerted me to the time – seven forty. I had a whole eighty minutes to break down.

Once I was confined once more within four walls, I let the tears fall. How could I be so stupid as to come here, as to sign myself over to him? I may as well have _told _him to do this. I had walked straight into the trap – worse, I'd _known_ there was a trap. My subconscious knew all along that he wouldn't be all too happy with the way things went down. It was like riling up a dog while it was in a cage, and then wondering why he bit you when you let him out.

I briefly considered changing into something else, but decided against it. No matter what happened, I would not act like I wanted it. I would not encourage him.

I just sat there, on the floor, staring out at nothing. I didn't deserve to sit on the bed. I deserved to be as low as I could be – just like the pathetic whore I was. I had no will to move. I was completely immobile with shock, fear, anxiety. Pick a feeling, any feeling.

An hour later, I still hadn't moved from the floor. I focused my energies on trying to breathe properly.

_In, out. In, out._

I burst into a fresh fit of sobs when I realized that motion would be one that would occur tonight.

I felt so helplessly _dirty._

I don't know why I was so deeply affected by this situation – I'd had sex before when I hadn't wanted it. I'd been raped before – not that what was going to happen would be rape; I _had_ consented.

_...Whore..._

The memories of that horrible night swirled viciously within my mind, attacking my somewhat calmed state. Thoughts of my legs being pried open by harsh, greedy hands made me choke on a sob that was trying to escape my mouth. My hands shook as I covered my face with them, trying to hide from all this mess. Though ultimately, I knew I was going to go into his room that night. I was going to give up without a fight. I was helpless. Don't think I was asking for sympathy – sympathy was the last thing I deserved. I had made this mess, and now I had to do what was asked of me. I was a doll, being thrown around roughly by superior hands. I just prayed that after he was done with me, he would still keep me. I couldn't bear to think that this would all be for nothing.

Roughly half an hour later, I was sitting on Paul's bed as he ran a finger up my arm, cajoling me. I turned my head away from him – it wasn't right. How could something feel so good, when inside, I felt so shamefully wretched? I felt each trembling shake jolt my shoulders as he lowered the strap of the top I was wearing. This wasn't right.

"Take it off." He demanded emotionlessly, eliciting a horrible shudder from within me.

He didn't kiss me at all that night. Not once. I guess I wasn't good enough to be kissed.

His hands were everywhere, grasping, _hurting._ I came to the conclusion that he wanted to cause pain – there was no way you could hurt somebody like that and not register the fact. He was in complete control, and by god, did he know it. He had me beneath him, not bothering to support himself, to take some of his weight off me. My breath was coming out in audible wheezes, and I knew he heard it. He did nothing to relieve me from suffocating.

God, how mad can you get for being broken up with?

His fingers, clenched and claw-like, ran down my sides, extracting a low whimper from my sinful lips. His derisive smile alerted me to the fact that he liked making me suffer. My face was hot from embarrassment and fear, but the blood was so cold in my veins, I couldn't understand how this could be. I couldn't tell you how the rest of me felt – I had gone numb. Don't get me wrong, I still felt pain, but I couldn't really react to it, you know?

I still didn't know why he was touching me – I was so low, so disgusting, he couldn't have found me attractive in the slightest. I guess he just wanted to claim me; fuck me like a whore to show me what I truly was. I remained silent for as long as I could, stifling pathetic whimpers and sinful moans with the palm of my hand.

Once his torturous hands reached the waistband of my underwear, the numb feeling faded. I jerked roughly, making him grasp my hips tighter.

"_No." _I whispered in horror. "No more." I felt myself shaking, but I couldn't understand how. I wasn't willing myself – I wasn't making myself shake. I was just somehow...doing it. I felt a tear run down the side of my face and seep into the pillow beneath me.

_No. Don't cry. Don't let him see the tears._

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"What was that, Suze?" he asked, a patronizing smile appearing on his face. I clenched my teeth together, my chin jutting out defiantly.

"_No. More." _I growled, my teeth still gritted. He sighed.

"Whatever." He relented, causing my eyes to widen. A wonderful sense of relief washed over me at how easy it had been. I went to get up, to cover sights that were not his to see, but suddenly Paul shot out an arm across my shoulders, keeping me beneath him.

"_Just kidding."_

A god-awful moan assailed his ears upon those words, and my shaking suddenly accelerated. I felt like I was experiencing some kind of fit. I couldn't let this happen. I knew;I just_ knew_ that if he were to get his way, he would hurt me. And he would do it again and again. _Relentlessly._

"Suze?" he looked suddenly discomfited. "What's...what are you..." I couldn't make sense of his words, and even if I could, I wouldn't have answered them. "Christ." He swore, rolling off me. I scrambled off the bed then, collecting random clothing articles and tugging them on. I hightailed it to the door as soon as I had collected everything I owned.

Barrelling into the guest bedroom, I tripped unintentionally and collapsed onto the floor, my limbs sprawling out beneath me. Sobs wracked my shoulders with grief. I didn't even care if Paul heard me crying – that's how far gone I was.

The dread of everything that had happened crashed down on me, suffocating me with the darkness. I was drowning in the torture that was my life. Each agonising cry erupted from deep within my stomach, bursting, unhindered through shameful lips that had caused this whole mess.

I couldn't move – I was rigid with both shock and fear. I tried curling up on my side, to contain the shuddering sobs that heaved my whole body.

But nothing would make it stop.

Nothing could make the torture end.

_Help me, _I wanted to scream, to somebody,_ anybody _that happened to be listening. _I'm so far into the dark that I don't even remember what light looks like._

_But there was nobody listening._

_Because nobody cared._

_And that, my friends, is the true Susannah Simon._

_Weak._

_Pathetic._

_Low._

**_Nothing._**

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	9. Chapter 9

_Would you look at me?_

_Updating all my stories, all speedy gonzalez-esque (sp?)_

_This chapter is rather long, compared to the others._

_And not much really happens._

_But it was nescesarry._

_Sorry she's doing so much crying. I know a lot of people must not be happy about where LGL is at the moment, but empathy is awesome. Her life has just turned to shit._

_The French. The uh, bad word was found online, so if you speak French, and it's wrong, then sorry._

_And the summary. If you read any of my other stories, you'll notice I changed a lot of them. I'm pimping the summaries. As well as Rough's layout. Sorry for any confusion :)_

_Oh, and thankyou to amanda109, who reviewed, like, every chapter. Made my day._

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"Omg!" said a squeaky voice from the seat directly behind me.

Seriously.

She didn't even bother to say_ Oh my God._

Who _does_ that?

Her voice had that kind of tone that girls always use when they have a shitload of gossip to tell, about some slutty girl, or new hook-up, or whatever.

I went to turn my iPod up, but her next few words caught my attention. "Yes!" she said in an excited whisper, "She's like, totally living with him! I mean, can you say _slut_?" I froze in my seat – I guess I _had_ changed. A few weeks ago I would have turned around and tore this girl to shreds. But now, I just couldn't find it in me to move.

"Well, I heard she's doing coke, and she totally owes all these people money, so she's getting it in turn for a few..._favours."_

"No way. She's _way_ too rich to be getting money like that. She'd just get it from her dad."

"But have you seen her dad? Oh my God, he's like, _so_ scary."

"You've got it all wrong. She's totally pregnant, and it's Paul's, from when they went out. Now she's living with him because she wants them to be a _'family'"_

"Oh my God, you're all wrong. She's actually supposed to be in rehab, but she ran away from her dad, who was, like, the one telling her she had to go, and now she's living with Paul, because Felicity, Roxy and Krystal, like _totally_ ditched her."

I sighed.

I'd received a lot of dirty looks that morning in the school parking lot, when I stepped out of Paul's shiny BMW convertible. I hate to admit, but I did deserve it. I mean, getting dropped off in the morning, by a guy...at an all-girls school? I would have made that girl's life hell if I was still in power here.

Envy was shot at me from every corner of the room, when I walked into homeroom, clutching my books to my chest as if they could shield me.

I couldn't believe they were jealous of _me_. God, if they only knew. I did my best to roll my eyes and shrug it off, but I knew what they were all thinking.

Plus, I had no friends to back me up anymore.

I was toast.

When I walked into French – _late,_ of course – every head shot up to pin me with a dirty look that I guess was supposed to tell me how _bad_ I'd been. They started whispering then, like, "Guess what?" and "Did you hear?" Madame Rodgers tapped her pointer noisily on the black board, her face growing red.

"Attention!" every girl shut up except for one, as I tentatively made my way to the only available seat – in the back row, next to some ugly girl I was _sure_ was a lesbian. Three words escaped the girl's mouth in the silence, piercing through the tension in the room: "What a slut!" Madame Rodgers turned and glared fiercely at the girl, who I recognised as Felicity.

"Miss Laurent. Perhaps you'd like to share that with the class. _In French._" She said severely, while I felt my face turn red. An explosion of giggles sounded in the room when Felicity stood up confidently, turned around to look at me and innocently said, "_Quelle __pétasse__."_

The one whisper that actually held my attention came from a pretty little redhead sitting in the seat directly in front of me. Ironically, she was probably the only person who _wasn't_ talking about me.

No, she was talking about somebody much more important than me, "Jesse de Silva. Anyway, he's _so_ hot! We went out last night." I felt my breath shorten instantaneously – I knew he didn't want me, but what, now he'd...moved on?

I noticed the inane chatter of fifteen excited girls fade from my mind, to be replaced by the sound of Jesse's voice. _"You don't have to be like that with me, Susannah; pretending that everything's okay, when really it isn't."_

I abruptly stood up, making a horrible screeching noise with my chair, which made everybody turn to look at me. The excitement was written all over their faces – this school hadn't seen a breakdown in years. I didn't bother with my books – I just rushed out of the classroom, earning comments like,_ "Going out for a quickie, Suze?"_

I don't remember anything else from that classroom, except for Madame Rodgers yelling something in French, before turning her back and ignoring me. I passed the classrooms quickly but quietly, catching random snippets of lectures and chatter.

I didn't really see much point in signing myself out. I didn't really see much point in a lot of things as of late. I opted for walking through downtown Carmel determinedly, ignoring everybody I passed. I wasn't going to bother scowling at the people that smiled at me that day; I just kept my face as an expressionless mask.

My feet knew where I wanted to go, even if my mind didn't, and once again, I found myself at the Carmel cemetery. I kneeled like before, in front of the horrible headstone that assured me it wasn't just a dream, and sighed dejectedly.

"What did I do _wrong,_ mom?" I whispered to the gravestone, blinking away unshed tears, "Why did you leave me, without saying goodbye?" My voice sounded horrible to _my own_ ears, like I was trying to talk while somebody choked the life from me, "Why did I do all those horrible things? Why does dad hate me so much?"

The torrent of tears that was dripping from my eyes almost surprised me when I felt the warm salt water run down my cheeks, which were hot with the embarrassment of crying in a public place.

I was crying like I had never cried before. It was all out there. It was raw and ugly and fierce and horrible and I couldn't breathe and my throat burned and I was angry at her and at him and because I didn't want to be and my life was horrible and my mind was racing and-

I picked up the small crystal vase resting on the grave, turning it over in my hands. With one swift motion, I threw it as hard as I could, hearing the faint shatter a few moments later.

When I'd composed myself again, I sat with my back to her tombstone, staring out at all the other graves. The cold marble of her headstone felt oddly comforting against my back, as if she was consoling me, just like she had when I was young.

I absentmindedly wondered how many people had cried in this cemetery. How many people actually came to remember their dead mother, or sister, or son?

Well, I guess I can't say I did. I only came here when my life turned to shit.

Sick of sitting there in that depressing cemetery, I stood up again to leave. On the way back into town, I kept my head down, looking up only when I had to cross the road.

Whoever it was that bumped into me was about to get a mouthful, until I heard my name come from his lips. I looked up with a start into the face of Jesse's roommate, Scott.

"Oh, hey." I said, still dazed. I watched his jade eyes narrow.

"Don't _oh, hey_ me." He said angrily. I blinked, taken aback. "What did you _do_ to de Silva?" he asked tersely. I raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" My voice had an incredulous tone to it.

"God, he's been moping around for the past few days. All I can get out of him is something about _'Susannah'_" he continued. I shook my head.

"You must be mistaken. He's-"

"He's fucking_ miserable_. He looks like shit-" he said, as if ticking off the fact from a list. He was eyeing me when he broke off. "..._you_ look like shit." I forced a hollow laugh.

"Oh. Thanks." I laughed, desperate for this conversation to end. But he shook his head adamantly.

"No, really. When's the last time you slept? You look.._._" I sighed heavily – I know I looked like crap. But that wasn't exactly my decision.

"Just-god, what do you want?" I stuttered, frustrated.

"Look." He said, getting all up-close and personal with my face, "You stay away from him. He doesn't need your psycho bitch shit, okay?" His hand was on my shoulder before I realized it. He grasped it roughly, causing me to wince in pain. What right did he have to touch me?

He was just another person, grabbing me with rough hands and shouting hurtful words in my face.

"Just fuck off, okay?" I spat, feeling a dizzy, disorienting blur erupt in the top of my head. "And-" I pressed my palm to my forehead, "And you can tell _Jesse_ from me, that he's a- he's a-" But suddenly, I couldn't remember exactly what Jesse was. My head spun dangerously, and a chance at Scott's face told me his features had softened into a look of concern.

"Shit. Are you okay? I mean, are you on somet-" The snarky retort I'd been intending to snap with died in my throat.

Because I was _not_ okay. I was very decidedly _un-_okay. I was this stupid, fucked up_ excuse_ of a girl.

I broke away from his grasp suddenly and, not knowing what else to do, started running as hard as my legs would allow. My feet pelted the sidewalk, and hearing my breathing made it that little bit more erratic.

When I'd slowed my feet into a steadier, calming rhythm, I allowed myself to remember, after so long.

I was thinking about random things; old memories with her, when she'd been alive and well. The times with him, when he'd been happy, and treated me like I was actually his daughter, instead of a low, worthless excuse for a human being.

I kept on running, never slowing. Because if I kept running, maybe I could get away from it all.

Somehow in this train of thoughts, Jesse entered my meditation. He was confusing, to say the least. I didn't understand why I was so...obsessed with him. I kept thinking about him, deliberating over how I could have made him stay. I would have given anything for him to look at me like he used to; like I _mattered_ to him, like he actually liked me for _me._ I sighed mournfully when I thought about the _me_ that he'd liked. She was gone now. I couldn't get my head around it – how he broke me down so swiftly. I guess I was just too easy to break.

The strong, defiant, stubborn girl I had been had died two nights ago, when he'd ended it. I felt like a child; all my strength and will had washed away, and now I was a blank canvas. You don't buy a blank canvas because you like it; you buy it because you want to change it into something else.

The bad memories came to mind first; the way he looked at me sometimes, like he didn't quite approve of what he was seeing. How he'd winced when he learned my fiscal status – for reasons I didn't understand, his family was almost as well-off as mine. The way he'd held my hand, like I was some girl he walked home from school every day. Not a bad memory per se, but the way he treated me made me a little uneasy – I felt like I was lying to him about who I was...even though I wasn't. The way he'd snapped, back at his apartment two nights ago. The way he'd looked at me that night – like I was some ant that had crawled over and dirtied his shoe. I did get what I deserved, though; he'd flicked me off and crushed me, twisting his foot into the pavement to ensure the utmost hurt he could muster. The way his friends had treated me – like I was some kind of trophy for him. It made me wonder how many girls Jesse had brought back to that apartment. Hypocrite, much?

I pondered nostalgically over the sweet memories; the way his lips felt against mine; the way my heart sped up when he touched me, even in the most subtle way. The way I didn't have to pretend – I didn't have to worry about how I acted, about what other people thought of me while I was with him. I could just...be, I guess. How he treated me, differently to how other guys treated me; like I mattered, like I meant something to him..._platonically_. The sexy smile that I couldn't help but return whenever he flashed it at me. The day he took me to his apartment and I was in such a good mood, just because I was with him. The night I'd met him, how he'd slow-danced with me, like it was the most normal thing in the world. That wonderful word I'd never looked up – _querida._

My face crumpled in confusion as my thoughts deepened. It wasn't lust I felt for Jesse – though I will admit, I was warm for his form. So what was it? I wanted to be with him all the time. My heart jumped when I saw him. I'd rather him hold me in his arms than take my clothes off. I'd cried when he'd insulted me.

The thoughts raced through my head, overlapping each other with their sheer speed, making my mind a horrible blur of reflections. Once my thoughts slowed down, I was left with one question.

_Am I...in love with Jesse?_

I stopped in my tracks.

The moment the question played in my mind, I denied it. No _way_. This was not love; it was...obsession, or...infatuation or...

However, the moment I denied it, I was even more convinced. Because I know what a lie feels like.

_I'm in love with Jesse. Oh my fucking god, I'm in love with Jesse! I...am in love...with Jesse. I love Jesse! This is what love feels like. Oh my god, I've finally fallen in love! I _can_ love somebody! I'm in love-_

My ebullient thoughts were cut off when I remembered with a single, heartfelt sob, that Jesse wasn't mine anymore. He didn't even want me.

He hated me.

I loved Jesse, and I'd pushed him away, like I'd pushed everyone else away. I screwed everything up, didn't I? I just couldn't help myself – anything that was ever good in my life just had to come undone.

God, I _so_ screwed myself over.

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	10. Chapter 10

_Starts off shit, but blah._

_I'm sick. Like, really sick._

_Not good._

_If you've sent me a PM in the past week or so and I haven't replied - and I know there's a few - sorry. But life's a bitch atm._

_Really bitchy. Sigh._

_Anyway, here it is._

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"Suze! We're going out." Sounded a voice that I knew as Paul's.

I halted my _intensely captivating _previous activity – of picking the dirt out from underneath my fingernails – instantly and looked around, as if expecting Paul to be standing there in the room he'd so _generously_ granted me with. I knew he wasn't there, of course. I'm not impaired. The voice had come from downstairs. It was merely the bewilderment that caused my sight to search the room.

I was _extremely_ confused by this demand. After the horrible, embarrassing incident of the night before, he'd barely acknowledged my presence. He'd driven me to school like I wasn't in the car. The Slater's cook had provided me with food. I ventured from the spare room only when I was sure he was secure in his. He hadn't spoken to me, or purposefully looked at me since I was in his bedroom, trying to escape him. I was immensely grateful for this turn of state, but I was perplexed as to why he was talking to me – much less, asking me to go out with him – now.

I glanced at my faithful D&G watch quickly. It kindly informed me that it was 8:27pm.

"Okay." I shouted in a weak voice, straining to shout my reply loud enough for him to hear. I wasn't in any position to refuse him.

I went over to the bag I'd – thankfully – brought with me last night, and rummaged through it, trying to find something to wear. Coming across one of my old favourites – a red slip dress by Hermés Kelly – I slipped it over my head, ran a brush through my hair, and stepped into the only decent shoes I had brought; my signature Chloë slingbacks.

Looking at myself in the large gilt mirror of the spare room, I sighed and noted that I would have to go shopping soon. I didn't want to be wearing the same kinds of things as usual, after my...modification of state. If we're going to be blunt about it, I didn't want to look like a slut anymore.

I walked down the stairs, feeling faintly like a girl on her prom night. I cringed at the peculiar, random thought the instant it entered my mind. Paul, I noticed, was leaning against the marble kitchen counter, waiting for me, in a black button-down and some jeans. It seemed like I'd dressed appropriately for the occasion.

Whatever it was.

He looked up as I walked down the stairs tentatively; nodding before venturing outside and leading me to his shiny silver car.

I didn't want to get into it. I didn't want to be going _anywhere_ with him just then. Or ever, if we're going to get technical about it. I wanted to be sitting in that safe little bedroom, wallowing in my own self-pity. Preferably with a pint of ice-cream. But then again, that's all I'd done for the last few days, minus the ice-cream, so I guess it was time to wake up to the fact that I had to show my shameful face once more.

Little did I know, there was more than one reason for me to stay in that bedroom that night.

If I was expecting Paul to grace me with some kind of speech while inside his car, I was comprehensibly disappointed. He refused to even acknowledge my presence. I wondered what was going on. If he didn't want to talk to me, then why were we going out...in public..._together?_

The answer came to me as instantaneously as the question, showering my skin with only a small amount of sorrow, compared to events of late. It's like, if you get your arm hacked off; you're not exactly going to register a paper cut.

He wanted people to see me on his arm. He wanted to tell everybody that I was his once more; that I'd come _crawling back_ to his relentless clutch. And really, what's worse than going back to your ex?

Let's say it together, folks.

_Puh-theh-tik._

Or, you know, pathetic, for you less phonetically-gifted people.

But it wasn't until I stepped into the club with Paul, that I realized how bad that night was really going to be.

Strobe lights blinked from each corner – at a speed that would have had an epileptic on the floor in seconds – making me blink quickly from the sheer swiftness that made them flicker on and off. Other lame disco lights – those which belonged in a grade school end-of-term dance – skimmed their colourful light over the old, scuffled, wooden floor. The stench that made my nose crinkle was what smelt like a concoction of alcohol, piss and sweat. I swallowed down the bile that rose within my throat.

It wasn't exactly the nicest place – I was at a loss as to why Paul _hot-shot_ Slater had chosen the particular scene for that night's events.

A flicker of understanding shot through me, when my eyes wandered over the tables adorning the white plaster walls. I swiped away some blonde that was trying to talk to me, and chanced a look at Paul, who wore an expressionless mask instead of a face. Did he know who would be here? Or did he just choose this place on a whim?

My chest tightened as his smirk made its infuriating presence known, alerting me to the fact that my former assumption had been the correct one. Granted with glimpses through what seemed like hundreds of dancing, grinding bodies, I saw something that made my breath halt in my throat. I sank into an almost blissful land of denial.

_No. It's not him. It can't be..._

But it was.

My denial was killed by the blasting, horrible racket that assailed my ears. Some called it music. I called it worthless shit. But, you know, whatever gets you off.

If you really think about it, I had no idea that I was about to walk into the worst confrontation of whatever short amount of life I had conjured up so far. There _was_ that small burst of intuition, before, when I was outside, standing hesitantly by Paul's car, I guess. Perhaps that was me receiving some kind of premonition from a higher power, telling me not to go to that _god-damn_ club.

Yeah. And George bush has an IQ of 200.

But other than that?

Nothing.

Zilch.

Nada, as Jesse would say.

And that's exactly who was sitting at that table I glanced so helplessly at, while dread etched itself into my veins as if I was breathing it in instead of the damp, misty air that surrounded me.

Jesse.

...and Jeremy.

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_Heh. Dum, dum, dum._

_Don't remember Jeremy? Bam, go back to the start of chapter one. :)_

_Reviews are like turning up to maths class, and finding Jesse teaching it._

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	11. Chapter 11

_Hey :)_

_Well, um, here it is, I guess._

_There's not much else I really have to say, lol._

_Sorry about the delay._

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I used to wear a purity ring.

It was beautiful; 18 carat gold, with a heart-shaped blood-red ruby in the middle, and two little diamonds either side of that. I never had trouble admiring it.

She'd bought it for me when I was 14. We never actually had the proper ceremony, but she demurely explained all of the circumstances to me, and I accepted them. I wasn't allowed to give myself over to anybody but my husband. It made sense to me at the time – my husband would be the only person I ever loved like that, so he'd be the only one I'd ever sleep with.

I threw it away.

The morning after I...lost my virginity, I threw it away.

I woke up on the floor, my limbs twisted at odd angles that suggested I'd passed out standing up. The memories of what had happened to me surged through my mind with my first conscious breath, making me bolt upright, looking around myself as if he was still there; as if he hadn't left the party the night before, laughing with his friends. I got up slowly; gingerly, testing my body to see how he had affected it. My muscles were tight and sore, and my skin just felt so...dirty. I walked out the door in a dazed stupor, not bothering to tidy myself up. If Felicity was there, I didn't notice.

I walked the mile or so back to my house, in an almost dreamlike state. Denial wasn't working – I had the physical evidence to prove that I'd...he'd...

I walked slowly, the pavement grazing the soft, suburban soles of my feet harshly. Every part of me ached. I had taken off my shoes – they were too painful to walk in; my feet already had angry red blisters all over them. I clutched my shirt around my torso protectively, only faintly registering the tear down the centre. He had marked me with scratches that adorned a lot of my upper body; I had never expected his fingernails to be so sharp.

I walked through the door only to be met by the sight of my Father, sitting there, staring blankly out at nothing.

"We're going to the hospital."

I didn't understand.

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The drive was made in silence.

The old, overweight nurse guided us to a room, while I stared at her tight uniform and vowed that I would never get like that. When she - Mary...Marie? - opened the door - white, unsuprizingly - light filtered into a room which mimicked the same aesthetical qualities as the other rooms, except for the person crumpled up underneath the taut, white hospital blanket.

The first thing I thought was that doctors must have some kind of fetish for white. Then I realized who was lying still on the bed.

"M-mom?" I asked shakily.

"She can't hear you."

I could still feel the remnants of the night before on my skin, making me shiver disgustedly. I hadn't showered. My skin felt old. I needed to wash it all away. I was so utterly dirty. I felt tired and hopeless. I couldn't help either of these situations. I couldn't do anything.

"She was in a car accident." His voice was both robotic and choked at the same time, as if he was trying to show no emotion whatsoever, but failing. I turned my back on her bloody, bruised lump of a body and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

_It's not real. None of it is real. It's just a dream. A nightmare. WAKE UP!_

And that's when the numbers on the machine went on freefall.

"No!" he choked with a voice unrecognizable to me.

I forced another deep breath.

I didn't _want_ to turn around, to see him frantically stroking the bloody hair away from her forehead.

I didn't _want_ him to gather her lifeless body in his arms, weeping into the ravaged flesh that had used to be my mother.

I didn't _want_ to slam the door on my way out of the sickeningly white room.

I didn't _want_ the echoes of his voice to assail my ears; _"Don't leave me, love! Please, love. You can't leave me."_

I didn't _want_ to burst through the forest green double doors, staring adamantly out at nothing.

I didn't _want_ to kick the chairs as I passed the horrible hospital cafeteria.

I didn't _want_ to go and sink into the dense greenery behind the hospital.

I didn't _want_ to scream with anguish and claw at my face viciously, as if to scratch myself out from this life.

I didn't _want_ to tense every muscle, and feel the convulsion of each silent sob wrench my body over on itself.

I never wanted any of it to happen.

But it _did._

She was the one that was supposed to help me with all this. She was supposed to scoop me up in her warm arms and tell me that it was all going to be okay, that they wouldn't let him near me again. She was supposed to be the one I told.

But now she was gone, and I had nobody.

"Suze? Earth to Suze." Paul's sharp voice alerted me to the fact that life on Earth was still continuing, no matter how many stupid memories I was caught up in.

I looked up at him with a hopeless expression. He gestured with his head, as if it were a quick, simple procedure I had to endure. As I swallowed down the lump in my throat, he took my wrist in one of his hands and led me over to the table where they were sitting.

I doubted Paul knew about Jeremy – nobody ever found out about that, except for Jesse. But I guess humiliating me in front of Jesse was enough fun for Paul. I walked slowly, as if delaying the meeting would halt it altogether. I couldn't bear to look up at that beautiful, flawless face that I knew would impede my speech and breath, so my gaze instead skimmed the wooden floor as Paul half-dragged me over to the table.

Okay, I admit it. I was terrified.

It was like re-opening a wound that had almost closed. I couldn't look at that guiltless, harsh face that haunted me every night. I couldn't see Jeremy again. Not after all this.

"Gentlemen." Paul said loudly, trying to talk smoothly over the sound of the horrible, scratchy music. "Mind if we join you?" A few moments later, Paul nudged me with his elbow. I sat down, keeping my gaze glued to the cheap laminate of the table. After a few seconds, the moment I'd been utterly dreading came. He recognized me.

"Suze?" came his incredulous voice. I whimpered inaudibly at the sound and kept my head bowed.

And then Paul's hand slid onto my leg, under the table.

I felt choked.

He was...he was trying to cop a feel _now?!_

My assumption was shot to hell, though, when he dug his short, yet sharp fingernails into the flesh there, extracting a sharp, surprised gasp from my trembling lips. I looked up suddenly, into the inquisitive faces of Jesse and Jeremy.

They were so close – I hadn't realized their proximity with my hindered senses. It was too much. Jesse had confusion written all over his face – no doubt, because of my peculiar behaviour.

Faintly, I heard the fish out of water sound that I must have registered as my own breath. But it was difficult to concentrate when the world was tilting on its axis. The damp air surrounded me like fog, and no matter how many breaths I took, I still wasn't getting enough air. My heart was making its presence known, hammering away within my chest.

Jeremy's mouth was twisted into an infuriating smirk, making all of the colour drain from my already pale face. Paul's expression matched Jeremy's, to some extent.

To my horror, Jeremy continued talking.

"So it _is_ you." He laughed, completely casual. I tried to calm myself down as Jesse leaned over to ask him something I didn't quite catch. Something which made Jeremy's smile even broader. "We go way back, don't we, babe?" It sounded like he was answering Jesse's question.

_Don't you dare call me babe like you fucking own me._

"We met at a party," he said smugly, like that cat who got the fucking cream, "Couldn't keep you off me, could I babe?"

_Call me babe one more time..._

"Hey, Suze? You still in there? Babe?" I looked up at him with the most venomous expression I could muster.

"Fuck you, Jeremy." I said slowly.

He smirked.

"You did."

I stood up, my fists balled so tight that I feared my fingernails would break the skin, and walked slowly and deliberately to the back entrance. Every part of me – every muscle I could clench – was tightly bound, as if there was a switch to make me snap. It was the only way I could keep the raw anger from bursting, unhindered through lips that currently resembled a straight line. Concentrating very, _very_ intently on breathing, I pushed the door to the exit so hard that it hit the side of the building, before slamming shut behind me.

I leant against the brick wall in the dark silence, before sliding down it slowly, tears in my eyes.

_Jesse is friends with Jeremy?_

I fumbled with a solitary cigarette from the bottom of my bag, inspecting it before lighting it and taking in a few calming drags. Resting my elbows on my bent knees, I propped my right temple up with the palm of my hand, feeling a useless tear roll down my wrist.

The door through which I had just walked squeaked as it opened, revealing an extremely confused and concerned looking Jesse de Silva.

"Susannah?" he asked tentatively, in the softest voice I had ever heard him use. "What's wrong?"

"How do you tell somebody what's wrong when nothing has ever been right?" I wanted to cry. Instead, I looked up, expressionless. "Jeremy." I mumbled. "You're friends with Jeremy Parker?" he seemed confused – even more so than before.

"What's wrong with Jeremy? I mean, if what he says is true, you seem to rather _enjoy_ his company" he said, annoyance briefly tainting his smooth, fluid accent. I wanted to scoff and say something sarcastic, but it was _so_ not happening at the moment.

"No, Jesse. Nothing's wrong with _him," _I spat, not wanting to repeat the name again. "I just don't want to be near him, ever again." I murmured, the bite leaving my voice. I rested my forehead on my knees again, wanting to fall asleep. My cigarette dropped from my hand, and I heard the hiss as it went out on the pavement. I was granted with no reply from Jesse. He must have been waiting for me to say something further. "I lost my virginity to him." I said quietly, my knees muffling my voice.

"But you said-" he stopped abruptly, before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _Oh my God. _"No. No, it can't be, Susannah!" His voice sounded hysterical. I laughed once, without humour.

"Small world, isn't it?" I joked, a dry smile quirking my lips upwards. It was wiped from my face, however, when I raised my head to see Jesse's expression.

He looked positively _murderous._

Fuck.

"Tell anybody. Tell Paul, tell Jeremy you know," I said, "And I will make you wish you were never born." I should have known by now that my snarky little threats wouldn't make Jesse even bat an eyelid.

"Nice try, Susannah." He said, finality entwining with his simple words, "But you're not getting away with it that easily. Tell me the truth. Tell me what happened."

I clenched my jaw.

"No." I said adamantly, "Nobody is going to know." He snorted. But...it was kind of a nice snort.

_Uh-huh, Suze. You got it bad._

"I already _know_, Susannah. Now I want to know what...when...I - Please. I'm trying here." It seemed like it was getting harder for him to talk about it. How inconsiderate of me.

"Why?"

"Because I care for you, Susannah."

I scoffed. "Certainly didn't seem like that a few nights ago, Jesse."

"Susannah, about that. I don't know what-"

I stood up then, almost eye-level with him. He halted his speech immediately, but the intimidating glare thing wasn't really working on him as well as I would have liked.

"Just stay out of it, okay?" I bit out, before storming back into the club.

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_Yeah, it sorta-kinda-maybe-just-a-little-bit was a filler, but..._

_Next chapter...won't be._

_Reviews are like Giggle pills. Without the side effects._


	12. Chapter 12

_I'm sorry. I'm aware that it's been ages._

_But it's here now C:_

_It's short and a little bit filling, but I'm sorry. I just typed it up._

_I figured y'all had been waiting enough._

_Anyway, **Rough** will be updated soon and **Ve****ngeance; Absoloution** just needs a few more reviews C: _

_I'm not exactly sure if many people want **Gossip Girl, Carmel style**, updated._

_But y'all know how to let me know - review, review, review!_

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Nightmares are regular fixture in my life.

The night we came home from the hospital, exhaustion caused me to pass out on my bed as soon as my body connected with it. From that night onwards, my dreams have been a collection of nightmares, terrors and fits of screaming. Id become so accustomed to the nocturnal dramatics that I only shrieked into my pillow nowadays, when I slept. I know my father had been finding my screaming quite trying, before I learned to mask it. I've adopted nightmares as part of my sleeping life.

But I never thought I would be living them.

Jesse had followed me without much hesitation, back to the table where Jeremy and Paul were seated, speaking about something that made them guffaw loudly. I sat down, my face deadpan. I could have masked my general feeling of My Life Is Just Terrible with a fake smile, had I wanted. But it wasn't like I was the centre of attention anyway.

Or so I thought.

Jesse was giving me kind of an odd look, attempting some sort of silent conversation. I really couldn't be bothered with his whole hot and cold thing at that moment, so I pulled my BlackBerry from my purse and pushed the same buttons over and over again, viewing the menu and exiting it. It gave me some sort of character, I think – as if I was so connected that I couldn't grant the people I was _physically _with, my attention, because I was so popular. As if I had anybody to text.

"Anything to drink, Suze?" Paul's lewd voice assaulted my ear, along with a brush of his lips. I closed my eyes for a moment, and kept them as such as I told him my drink preference.

"Whisky." I paused momentarily, mulling it over, "Or something equally strong." It wasn't exactly logical, but I figured that if I could get ridiculously drunk, perhaps I could forget the general suckiness of my life for a while.

I sensed Paul behind me as he left the table to go get our drinks at what was a rather crowded bar. That's when _he_ had to speak up again.

"Careful, Susie." Jeremy chuckled. I smiled infinitesimally as Jesse's eyes narrowed at him, even though I mirrored Jesse's actions instinctively. I threw in a raised eyebrow for effect.

"What?"

"Well, it's just that you're the cheapest drunk I know, babe." The other eyebrow raised the first in a questioning expression. Though I wasn't questioning what he'd said – that much was true. What I was questioning was whether he wanted his kneecaps come tomorrow. "And I don't think Slater wants to have to take care of your skinny ass into the early hours of the morning. It's humiliating enough for him that his girlfriend is such a complete-"

He was lucky he didn't get much further than that. Although it was not me who interupted his inane walk of pride. It was Jesse.

"Slater..." he said, his eyebrows drawn in together, "What do you mean, taking care..." But the cutting off seemed to be a trend that night. Jesse's voice, already faint within the racket of the club, was drowned in Jeremy's booming laugh.

"Man, don't you know?" I closed my eyes. Could this get any worse? "They're living together, right Suze?" he added the question to his statement just to put me under the humiliation of answering it. I nodded curtly. "Seperate beds, no doubt..." Jeremy murmured, a little too loud to be talking to himself.

"But...why are you...Susannah?" Jesse seemed completely dumbfounded. I heaved a sigh. But I never got the chance to answer him – Jeremy seemed to be taking care of that.

"Well, I imagine Daddy kicked her out again." The shock marred Jesse's face on _kicked her out_, and intensified on _again. _"Probably for being such a-"

That was it. I had had just about enough of this. _You're __**Susannah Simon**__, for chrissakes,_ said the voice in my head. It was time I did the cutting in.

"Jeremy." I said, a demure smile making itself comfortable on my face, "Last time I checked, I'm not the only one there is to gossip about." His expression had started faltering by now, and I vaguely remembered a documentary I'd watched a long time ago, back when I was a different person. "_Once it has found a potential meal, the shark will circle at some distance sizing up the situation. When it is ready, the shark moves in quickly taking a large bite before the animal knows what's happening. Often this first attack is sufficient to bring down the prey."_ I'd sized him up enough. It was time to go in for the kill. Paul was just sitting down next to me as I continued.

"Unless you want me to bring certain events to people's attention, I suggest you stop with the petty insults and keep your overly large nose out of my business." I could have stopped there, because he'd grown as pale as I'd seen him – and frankly I didn't want to continue seeing him. The sight of him was making me sick – but I was enjoying myself for the first time in a few days. "Or you know...I could just mention a few things to certain people. I bet they'd make sure you receive what's coming to you." He paused with his mouth open for a moment, which I took to glance around at Paul who was looking absolutely confounded. Jesse looked like he was trying to suppress a smirk. I took a sip of my drink and gave Jeremy a Come Up With A Come-back Yet? look.

"You don't have it in you." he finally replied scornfully, underestimating just what, exactly, I was capable of. "You...you wouldn't tell anybody, because they wouldn't believe a thing you said." I pulled a corner of my mouth up, unfazed. "And even if you did..." he spluttered on, searching desperately for an ending to his sentence. "It'd all be in your imagination." he finished lamely, trying to disguise the fact that his breath was speeding up, before throwing in, "A fantasy." I shook my head almost good naturedly, before drawing back my chair, ready to leave the table.

"Well..." I said patronizingly, biting my lip in a mock thinking position, "As I'm sure all three of you know," I stood up, still bent over a little so they could hear me.

"I'm _excellent_ at faking it."

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	13. Chapter 13

_Three cheers for Kassy:_

_Hip, hip!_

_...*tumbleweed*_

_Okay, fine. Whatever._

_Thanks to, **dori-tori, Ivoryyy, MisticStar, IloveJesse, **and of course,** I want to be jesse's girl** (missed you!)_

_Here's your chapter. Well, technically, it's my chapter. But it's for you c:_

_

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"You're _so_ cool. You know that, right? I mean, we should _totally_ hang out more. We never hang out! Yeah, we should hang out..." I looked over and shook my head good-naturedly at the same blonde who had tried to talk to me when Paul and I first entered the club. There was no doubt about it: she was on another planet by now.

I retrieved my phone from my purse when it beeped shrilly, alerting me that I had one new message, from Paul Slater. Awesome.

_Where are you?_ It read. I rolled my eyes and dropped my phone back into my purse. He could go get fucked.

It was as I was devising a plan in my head to sneak into Paul's house to retrieve my stuff, that the blonde toppled over the side of the bar stool she was previously teetering on. I sighed dejectedly and walked over to where she was sprawled out on the sticky floor. I lightly slapped her cheek, trying to raise her back into consciousness.

"Blonde girl." I probably should have asked her what her name was, but that wasn't exactly on my list of high priorities just then. "Hey, get up. Come on." Her eyelids fluttered for a moment and her neck swung around on her shoulders as she rose her head.

To throw up all over my shoes.

"Okay, gross!" I said angrily. It wasn't enough that I had faced Jeremy, fought with Jesse and been thrown around by Paul tonight – my Chloë slingbacks had to be thrown up on. I wrinkled my nose and stood up, leaving blonde girl where she was on the floor of the bar. She could get fucked too.

I was in a black mood when I headed towards the girl's bathroom, which only intensified when I saw the length of the queue of scantily clad girls needing to use the bathroom. I looked over at the men's room, which had only four guys standing outside it. Surely nobody would notice if I used the men's room instead, right? I mean, I only had to wash my shoes.

I was in and out of there within a minute, which I don't exactly deem a pleasant one. Though when I bumped into Jesse on my way out the door, it hit me that the next few minutes would be even worse. A higher power hates me. I am _so_ serious.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me." he said, hardly holding back what seemed like a humorless laugh. I narrowed my eyes at him. What happened to caring, contrite Jesse from before?

"Not that it's any of your business, but I was washing sick off of my shoes in there, after some idiot threw up on them." He raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

"Oh, _that_ sounds plausible." he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. My eyes lingered for longer than I would have liked on the way his biceps bulged under the fabric of the t-shirt he wore. "Though next time, you should probably go for a more believable excuse for why somebody like you is coming out of the men's room." I straightened my spine and put my hands on my hips. I was getting pretty tired of everybody making little snide comments all the time. My self control was stretching like a rubber band; it wasn't long until it snapped.

"Somebody like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean, Jesse?" He rolled his eyes.

"I have to ask, though," he went on, ignoring my question, "What about Slater?" I raised an eyebrow, confused as to why he was mentioning Paul.

"What _about _him?"

"Well, do you cheat on _all_ the men you date...or just a few? I mean, if Slater's generous enough to offer you a place to stay, and you're still being unfaithful, it makes me wonder what you were doing behind _my_ back." I blinked a little trying to make sense of what he'd just said.

"Okay, for one," I started, my anger growing by the second, "I was not with anybody in there_._ Not that it would have mattered to Paul if I _was_, seeing as he and I _aren't_ dating. Two, he didn't offer me a place to stay. He fully expects me to pay him back for his _generosity,"_ I mocked, before adding as an afterthought, "Not sure how I'm supposed to, seeing as I refused to sleep with him." Jesse looked bewildered. "And three, I was never with anybody else when we were seeing each other. I would _never_ do that to you. You meant too- " I stopped myself there with a shake of my head. That was enough sharing. I quickly brushed away at the wetness under my eyes, hoping he didn't notice. My hopes were crushed when he laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Susannah-"

"And _what the hell_ is going on with this god-damn hot and cold routine?" I went on, as if I hadn't heard him. I stepped back from his hand. "It's getting pretty old, Jesse." I said, masking my vulnerability with anger. I turned to leave, but his hand clamped around my upper arm in a vise-like grip. "Get your hand off me." I hissed from between gritted teeth, "And leave. Just like everybody else does." I mentally slapped myself for saying that the moment the words left my mouth.

"Susannah." he pleaded, sounding choked up, "You don't understand."

"What I _don't _understand, is why you haven't left me alone yet!" I didn't know precisely if I was referring to this conversation, or something on a much larger scale. "Why don't you just go back to your _wonderful_ parents...and your _fancy_ car, and your _happy_ life, and stay the hell out of mine!" I shouted, words pouring from my mouth like an unhindered torrent. Tears clouded my vision, making me stumble blindly as I tried to escape the death grip Jesse had on my arm.

"Just stay the fuck away from m-" I shouted, but I was suddenly cut off by Jesse's lips crashing down onto mine.

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_Haha, had to leave it there. Sorry._

_Could we get 10 more reviews till I update? Just so I know I'm not writing to myself. Lol._


	14. Chapter 14

_Sorry about the AN before. I know some people were disappointed it wasn't a chapter._

_I just wanted to say, _**_over 100 reviews?!_**_ You guys are so great! _

_Thankyou to everybody who's reviewed so far! Keep 'em coming :D_

_Here it is..._

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He really didn't have a clue what he was doing.

"Um, can you just...tilt to the right a little. I...I, need the right angle, you know?" I began to question whether he'd even done this before. "And, uh, your hips...up a little. I'm just – I'm not getting this right." I sighed.

"Is this your first time?" I asked bluntly.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he spluttered, embarrassed. I rolled my eyes. This was kind of awkward.

"You know, doing this..."

"Well, yeah. Um, kind of..." he said hesitantly, "I mean, I haven't really had much experience, if you know what I mean." This was just a little confusing.

"Well, why not?" I asked shortly.

"I never got to practise at college."

"And the company put you on this photoshoot because...?"

"I...I really don't know." He stuttered. He reminded me of this little red-headed kid I used to babysit. I smiled warmly at him.

"I bet you can do it."

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"Suze, baby! I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!" I sighed quietly and turned around to face Leanne. When I set eyes on her, I noticed she still looked exactly the same as when I'd met her. This struck me as odd in some way, as if she was completely frozen at whatever age she was assuming.

"Look, Leanne. I've been meaning to talk to you." I said tiredly. She looked up at me with confusion swimming in her eyes. "I'm...well, I guess I'm just not doing this anymore." I said with a shrug and a finite hand gesture.

"Modelling?" I nodded, "You're _quitting?_ But...but, we have a contract..."

"That stated I would work until I was sixteen. I'm _seven_teen in two months."

"But...why?" She was nonplussed.

"Do you think I _like_ selling my body in these tiny little swimsuits? You think I like being portrayed as a stupid model all the time? No. Now that I have enough money to get by, I'm done." I shrugged again, before making my way to the model's dressing rooms. As soon as I'd changed into the clothes I'd arrived in, I walked straight out of there. I sighed as I walked through the sliding doors.

It was as I was sitting on the steps of the agency about ten minutes later, puffing my way to emphysema, that I started to feel nauseous. I smushed my cigarette on the ground and took a big gulp of air to calm my stomach.

Nope. Still going to be sick.

I ran back inside the agency and into the girls toilets, forcing the door open just in time. I fell onto my knees as a whole lot of bile made its way up my throat and into the toilet bowl. This painful process repeated itself over and over again, until I was left dry-heaving. I sat back on my heels and tried to get my breathing back under control. I stood up after sitting there a while and came out to the sink area to wash my mouth out, so I wouldn't have to be reminded of the taste of sick. One of the models I used to be friends with, Candace, was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her teeth. I blinked. Who brushes their teeth in the toilets?

"Aw, Suze." She said sadly, around her toothbrush and the mass of foam in her mouth. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked sharply, "Why are you aw-ing me?" She spat out the white foam from her mouth and sighed unhappily.

"I know a _really_ good specialist in eating disorders. I mean, we've all gone through one, right?Molly used to go to this one guy when she was...well, alive, and he helped her out a lot. You owe it to yourself to get help, Susannah. Nobody's going to judge you." This happened to be the deepest thing that I had ever heard Candace say.

I sighed anyway.

"I don't have bulimia, Candace." Her eyes widened.

"So you're pregnant?" She was getting too worked up about this whole issue.

"I drank some bad milk last night." Was it just me, or did she look a little dejected at the fact that there was no scandal in my throwing up?

"Oh." I fought the urge to roll my eyes and made my way back out of the agency, thoughts swirling through my head in a confused cloud of turmoil. I hadn't eaten anything last night. I mean, I had a bitch of a hangover but usually I didn't throw up the morning after. I headed into the nearest cafe and ordered a long black anyway, hoping that it would settle my stomach.

Twenty minutes later, I was drumming my fingernails against the fibreglass table, still waiting for my coffee. When a skinny girl who looked about my age walked past me, wearing an apron, I called out.

"Hey. I still haven't gotten my coffee." I said boredly, still concentrating on the table. She looked around at me and almost dropped the tray she was carrying. Her eyes went wide as she opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. I raised my left eyebrow.

"Oh, my gosh. _Susannah Simon!_" Well hey, at least _somebody_ still knew my name. I was actually getting a little worried that she was going to have an anxiety attack or something, right there in the cafe, before she spoke again."I am _so_ sorry! A long black, right? I'll get that right now!"

She ran off before I could say anything.

"O...kay..." I said to myself. When the waitress came back with the coffee, she sat down in the seat directly across from me. I am not even kidding.

"So, what's it like to be queen of Sacred Heart?" she said excitedly. Good thing there weren't many people in the cafe. "I mean, I've gone there just about as long as you and still, nobody even knows my name." She said sadly. I don't know whether she'd noticed, but lately, my crown had been sitting atop pretty little Felicity Laurent's head. And boy, did she love it.

"Right." I said slowly, my mind repeating a three word phrase over and over. "And..._what_ was your name again?" She looked like I'd just paid her a ginormous compliment.

"I'm Madison." she said eagerly, smiling like a fool, "It is _so_ cool to meet you finally." I nodded, sipping my coffee.

"And you're a..." I paused, scanning her face, "sophomore?" I asked, taking a stab I the dark.

"Oh, no." she said, still smiling like a retard, "I'm a senior, just like you."

There was something wrong with this girl.

I opened my mouth to tell her that, when the bell above the door dinged, making Madison and I look up. It also made my heart stop. Madison stood up and waved a little, that ridiculous smile still plastered on her face.

"Hey, Jesse!" She said enthusiastically. I shook myself out of my frozen stupor, threw a fiver down on the table and stood up shakily. I walked over to Madison, who was smiling at Jesse, obviously not noticing the tension between the two of us. I smiled at her and held my arms out, stating that it had been, "So, _so_ good catching up," but that I "Really gotta run." She hugged me, still smiling. She didn't seem to think it was weird at all that I was hugging her.

As I made my way past him, Jesse murmured a "Susannah," but I distinctly ignored him. As I walked out the door, Madison was asking him if he wanted "The usual."

I wound my way through familiar streets, thinking over my options. I had no clothes and no money left. I'd known I'd have to go back to him at some point, but I never thought I'd have to do it so soon. That place gave me the creeps, with its cold silences and its palpable absences. I shivered just thinking about it. But then, I didn't really have much of a choice, did I?

It took a few hours of procrastinating before I finally trudged up the path and knocked on the thick hardwood door. He looked simultaneously victorious and infuriated as he answered the door. "Susannah. Come in."

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_Here's some snippets from the next chapter:_

_"Susannah. Are you...You're not?" he said in disbelief._

_"Why would you care is I was?" I said expressionlessly._

_-8-_

_The door was swung open to reveal the red-head girl in a guy's shirt that was way too big for her. _

_"Yes?" she asked rudely._

_-8-_

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	15. Chapter 15

_Hey people!_

_I know, I know. I don't write, I never call..._

_But, well, I'm finally updating._

_So here you go:_

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There were going to be holes in my skull if he glared at me like that much longer. I bit the inside of my cheek and lifted my chin, looking him square in the eye while he recited his rules:

While I'm in this house, I will speak only when spoken to.

I will refrain from lying and swearing.

I will stay in my room and be allowed down for half an hour in the evening to make myself something to eat.

I will not see my friends or talk to them on the phone, and I am absolutely forbidden from seeing any boys. And Do I Make Myself Clear?

"Well, I'm certainly not going to be able to have fun refraining from all these things if I can't come inside." I said frostily. He stepped aside to let me by and turned on me with The Glare Of Death again as I retreated to the safety of my bedroom. I was on the fifth stair when he spoke.

"Have you eaten?"

I stopped, looked around at him expressionlessly and nodded my head, because it would completely kill me to be able to shove two pieces of bread in the toaster.

I could lie and say that my internet, television, allowance and every privilege imaginable being taken away from me mattered, but the truth was that I barely even noticed. The only thing that had really mattered to me, I had personally fucked up and there was next to nothing I could do about that.

I sat on my bed for a while, staring at the street outside the window. I didn't know what to do with myself, for the first time in my life. Everything was so...insubstantial.

Once I decided that taking a long bath wasn't going to be breaking any of his rules, I made my way into my adjoining bathroom, stripping off my clothes as I went. I opened the taps, favouring the hot one, and let the steam rise.

I scrubbed until my skin was red raw and I felt absolutely clean of the past few weeks. When I was sufficiently skin-free, I drained the bathwater, wrapped a towel around myself and padded back into my bedroom to find four brightly coloured brochures fanned out on the foot of my bed. Taking care I wasn't dripping on my carpet, I sat down on my bed to inspect what he'd left.

St. Mary's. St. Catherine's. St. Angela's. St. Mary's again. And we weren't even catholic. My hands started to shake as I stood up, not willing to believe he was going to ship me off to one of these hellish institutions. With a split second decision, I ripped my closet open, shrugged into a dress, punched my arms through a leather jacket and almost overdid it on the eyeliner.

I thundered down the stairs, not bothering to check if he was there to formally arrest me for leaving the house or not. Slamming the door on the way out, I made my way to the only place I could get an actual welcome. Frosty, albeit, but I just _knew_ that the door wouldn't shut in my face.

Of course, she made me beg for it. Tossing her vibrant, dark orange hair over one shoulder, she looked down at me from her top step, a condescending smirk twisting her face into an ugly sneer. "So, hand me the crown to the school and we've got a deal." I rolled my eyes. God, she was so..._Gossip Girl._

"Whatever." I feigned boredness while I officially handed over the title I'd relentlessly worked for three years running. "Have it."

She nodded briskly at me, her face becoming serious. "Now, I don't want any more trouble, Suze. We can hang out at school, you just have to be the new me, right?"

_If he doesn't ship me off to one of those god-botherer's boarding schools first._

"So I get to be the Queen's sidekick." I mocked, like it was a serious deal. "And what, Krystal and Roxy are still the brainless followers?"

"Please." Felicity said, setting her hips like she was tired of conversation, "They'll never be good for anything else." I shrugged because she was probably right. I watched as she took a deep breath, obviously mulling over what she should do with the situation.

Half a minute later, her eyes lit up with what was probably one of the most stupid ideas ever. Her lips pulled up viciously as she inclined her head inside.

"Come in."

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"Taken on a charity case, Liss?" Krystal hissed when she walked through the door, Roxy in tow, and saw me reclining on Felicity's leather sofa. Felicity took a deep breath and clenched her jaw while I tried to hide my laugh. She was sick of the power already? Served her right.

"Krystal, Roxy, we're going out." She said in a calculated voice that was a sad impression of mine when I wanted them to remember I was the decision maker. "Remember those guys from the other night?"

"Oh yeah. I hope Dean doesn't wanna go all the way again." Roxy said lamely, "I mean, hello, crimson tide?" Felicity and Krystal just gave her disgusted looks before turning to me, as if I had just turned up out of nowhere.

"There's this guy, Suze, and his name's Rob, because well, really, there's four of them, but there was only three of us the other night, so-" she was saying, but the noise in my head was growing louder and louder, until it drowned out her voice completely. I'd thrown up this morning. And Roxy talking about her 'crimson tide' alerted me to the fact that mine had been absent for a while, without my own notice. I laid a hand over my chest and willed my heart to slow.

"Suze? Liss, there's something fucking _wrong_ with her."

"Oh, shut the _fuck_ up, Krystal. And don't call me 'Liss'."

"S_uu-_uuze? Hellooooo!" A clicking noise snapped my eyes open and I noticed Roxy's hand waving in front of my face.

"Suze?" I looked up at Felicity, my breathing returning to normal. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Just felt a little sick." I said with an aloof shrug, forcing my thoughts to the back of my mind. I needed to be strong in front of them. Felicity continued to stare at me as I got up, brushed myself off and headed for the door. I turned to look at the three of them, hand poised on the doorknob. "Coming, Liss?" I said sweetly. Krystal and Roxy stifled their giggles and followed suit, Felicity glaring at me with watered down vehemence.

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_The next chapter's almost done so updating really depends on the number of reviews (:_

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	16. Chapter 16

_This chapter is quite long, for this story._

_ But I didn't know where to cut it, so here you all go; an extra long chapter (:_

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_

"So, Sue. What do you like to do for fun?" His name was Rob and obviously they were trying to kill me because he was meretricious and nothing compared to Jesse. We were all cramped in a booth in some run-down old pub, which was depressing enough without the male company. The boy Felicity was macking on, I noticed, must have been the missing link between man and rat. I hardly even saw the others, seeing as Roxy and Krystal were, literally, all over them. "Rob" had one sweaty paw draped over my shoulder, which much too intentionally swiped over_...there_ every few minutes.

"It's Suze." I said much less cattily than intended, due to the amount of vodka that I'd had to drink to forget about my current situation. "And I like vodk_aaa_." I held up my shot glass and exhaled dramatically when I saw that it was empty.

"Another round over here!" bellowed Krystal's companion, who, once I got a look at his face, I could see was _almost_ cute, if you squinted at the right angle. The waitress, a young girl who seemed almost familiar, placed the drinks on the table with a small, confusing smile in my direction. I squirmed uncomfortably when Rob's lips touched my earlobe and I heard – as well as _felt_ – him whisper the most original line in history, "Wanna get some air?" I weighed my options and nodded after a minute, because _anything_ sounded so much better than sitting there with the Trio of Evil and their latest cavemen.

He wasted no time in leading me out the back door into an open alley, which was, I think, a failed attempt to try turn me on. I felt his hand roughly grasp my shoulder as he promptly pushed me against the dirty wall, kissing me hard on the lips. I froze under his domineering touch, awful memories emerging in the forefront of my mind. The similarities between his touch and Jeremy's rendered me immobile for a moment, before I thankfully found my bearings once more and fought back against him. I pushed at his chest as forcefully as I could until his lips became unstuck from mine, and turned my head to the side.

"I'm gonna be sick." I warned erratically, as he decided kissing my neck was easier. I was thoroughly repulsed by Rob's advances, which _were_ actually making me want to be sick. I felt as if there were spiders crawling all over me, leaving chilling, eerie traces on my skin that made my chest tighten with fear.

"That's alright, baby. I can deal." I was utterly grossed out now. Trying not to squirm, I brought my knee up between his legs in a swift motion, effectively kneeing him in the groin. He fell over sideways with his hands at his crotch, making a terrible moaning sound and uttering curses at me that I simply chose to ignore. I stepped over him quickly and walked back out into the street, trying to brush his lingering smell off of me.

* * *

I tried, on a few occasions, to stop my feet from walking in the direction that they were, but it was an attempt made in vain. As I walked into the harsh light of the pharmacist, I willed my eyes to adjust and tried to focus my thoughts on the task at hand. I walked the aisles until I found the little blue box, dropped it on the counter and threw a twenty at the old lady at the cash register.

It was as she gave me the receipt that my ears pricked up on hearing my name from behind me. I whirled around unconsciously, realising too late that he'd caught me red handed. "What are the fucking chances?" that little voice in my head said, completely beyond passive. I've said it before, I'll say it now. _A. Higher. Power. Hates. Me._

My eyes went wide as my mind confirmed what I must have already known, and I tried to stuff the box in my purse before he noticed it, but all that did was draw his attention to it. His dark eyes widened in surprise to match my own and he slowly dragged them back up to my face as I turned red.

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I _do not_ blush.

"Susannah. Are you...You're not..." he haltingly said in disbelief, practically _daring_ me to say that it was for somebody else; not mine.

"Why would you care if I was?" I said evasively, the alcohol taking the edge off the pain, embarrassment and disconcertion I felt on seeing him. He gave me a pleading look, like he didn't know what to say, and stepped closer to me. I inadvertently took a step back from him as he stepped forward, and accidentally bumped against the register.

"Susannah-" he started, before giving up on whatever he was going to say. "Please just...come back to my place. We need to talk." This would have been funny and I would have made it into a joke, had this situation not been so incredibly disproportionate.

"No." I said automatically, before considering it. I pressed my palm against my forehead, wishing I hadn't drank anything. "Um, o-okay...Fine." I conceded, getting a look at his face. I was starting to acquire that same feeling where I didn't know whether I was coming or going.

Before I knew it, we were back at Jesse's building, and he was knocking on the front door to his apartment, which meant one of his room mates were home. I cringed inwardly at the thought and briefly considered leaving, but eventually decided against it – I really didn't cherish any of my other options.

The door was swung open a split second later to reveal the same red-head girl from my French class that day I went to the graveyard, in a guy's shirt that was way too big for her, and nothing else. Well, nothing else that I could see, anyway. My stomach dropped as she glared at me.

"Yes?" she asked me rudely, before her gaze moved to her left and she got sight of Jesse. "Oh, hi, Jesse. Come in." He managed a small smile as he nodded and breezed through the door, motioning with a nod for me to follow him. But I couldn't move. I was stuck to the expensive carpet of the hallway. I had no choice but to stand alone outside the doorway, dumbstruck.

Was I supposed to act like it was _okay_ that he was seeing another girl now? Was I supposed to pretend like what we'd had was of no consequence? I felt a wave of helplessness descend on me as I realised that Jesse and I had crossed the line from romance into friendship. He didn't love me anymore; I was just a...a charity case that he felt obligated to look after. Jesse looked back at me again and beckoned me inside as all the blood that had once been there drained from my face entirely. I took a few small, unwilling steps that made my legs feel as heavy as lead while the other girl walked into the kitchen, turning the kettle on.

"Susannah, Jane, do you know each other?" I blinked violently as if somebody had just slapped me. I hoped he understood that there wasn't much chance of me talking in the next few minutes. He seemed, however, to notice nothing out of the ordinary. He looked as comfortable as ever as he sat down on the couch, motioning to me like expected me to follow suit.

"Oh, I know Suze," Jane said loudly from the kitchen, sounding derisive, "She's the 'Queen'." She had the audacity to use air quotes, which Jesse inadvertently missed. I instantaneously shot her a dirty look, hating her all the more.

"Sorry?" Jesse's smile was something akin to amusement, which made me even more unbelieving of the whole situation.

"She's the 'Queen'," Jane mocked again, making the whole monarchy idea sound ridiculous. She was clanging around, making herself a cup of tea, as she explained to Jesse how extremely lame I was in her opinion. "Of Sacred Heart. You know, the most popular girl?" Jesse looked over at me, an odd expression marring his tanned face. I fidgeted under his gaze. "Tea?"

"No...thank you. Susannah?" I shook my head tightly, feeling like I had just walked into one of my many nightmares.

"So, yeah. I know all about Susannah here." Jane said, challenging me to say something in my own defense.

"You don't know anything about me." I uttered hoarsely, surprising myself with my low, raspy voice. Just what did I think I was playing at? I was going to get myself into yet another mess, and I'd have nowhere to go. I was already on my last option.

Jane stopped what she was doing on my words and turned to face me slowly, an unbelieving look on her face. She delivered her words with a vicious bite to them. "Do you want me to tell you just what I _do_ know about you, or would you rather I didn't with Jesse here?"

"Okay, Jane. I think that's enough. Shouldn't you get back to Scott?" Jesse cut in protectively, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. I swallowed nervously.

Jane fixed her eyes on Jesse for much too long, before throwing her tea bag in the trash and padding leisurely into the living room, taking care not to spill her tea.

"He's gone out." She paused to give me what I supposed was meant to be a withering glare, as if Scott's absence was somehow _my_ fault. "But I can take a hint." She walked pointedly through one of the doors – which, I remembered from the first time I'd been here, was not Jesse's – and closed it forcefully behind her.

I let out a deep breath I didn't know I'd been holding and sagged into one of the chairs opposite Jesse's as he sat back down. "_What_...is going on?" I asked, perfectly fed up. The vodka I'd consumed earlier wasn't helping at all.

"What do you mean, _querida?_" He sat up straight on that word, as if just realising what he'd called me after he had. "I mean...Sorry." I took a shaky breath, bracing myself for the conversation I was sure was imminent.

"Who- are you...is Jane-" I couldn't say the words, and not just because I was mildly intoxicated.

"Oh, Scott's girlfriend?" I blinked, not quite sure if I'd heard him correctly.

"...W-what?" I asked carefully, daring myself not to believe him. Because if I did, then something bad was bound to counter it.

"Scott's new girlfriend, Jane. I'm sorry about the way she treated you – that was really...uncalled for." I wasn't able to register the information at first, but when it sank in, I couldn't stop my lips from curling up in a relieved smile. Stupid, embarrassing tears of relief rolled down my cheeks as I rejoiced inwardly. "Susannah!" he cried, surprised by my tears, "Really, you mustn't worry about her." he said earnestly, rushing to my side. "She really doesn't think about-"

"No." I cut him off, trying to rub the stupid tears from my face, "I'm not crying...I mean, I'm not upset."

"Then what..?"

"I thought you two were...Well, I heard her talking about you in school and I figured...But you never...?" The expression on his face made him look like I'd just asked him to make his own bed.

"Susannah, _no_."

"Oh." I breathed, the coil of dread in my stomach slowly beginning to unfurl itself. "I just...sorry." By the look on his face, something clicked in his mind and it seemed like he was holding back a laugh. I knit my eyebrows together in a pout at his expression and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to be mad at his laughing at me. He let a smile grace his mouth and I had to turn away to stop myself from giving in to his joviality entirely.

He must have taken it as an indication of how mad I was, because he rested his hand on my arm, sending a burning sensation shooting through my body.

"Susannah," he crooned, his thick accent threatening to bring down my determined walls, "Don't be like that. I'm not laughing at you, _querida._" If he hadn't intended to call me that, he didn't show it.

I whipped my head back around to pout at him some more until I noticed how close to my face his own was. The air around us became serious as he slowly reached up to tenderly brush my recalcitrant fringe off of my forehead. "Why did you leave?" he murmured quietly, his black eyes locked onto my own green ones.

"Because I-" I stopped myself mid sentence with a deep exhale and moved away from him, sliding onto the other side of the chair. I kept my face turned away from him, in case I felt like going back and telling him why I had left him alone yesterday morning.

"Susannah?" His voice was so strained as to actually cause me physical pain. I stood up from the chair slowly, my breathing beginning to come to me in erratic bursts.

"I-It's different with you, okay?" I stuttered. His face had contorted into an expression of confusion by the time I looked back at him. I wrung my hands, jittery and fretful. "I can't..._be_ with you the way I can with others." I explained, desperately wishing him to understand me so that I wouldn't have to explain myself. He remained patiently quiet, so I started rambling, a tendency I have when I become nervous, "And I know, there's been a lot of others." I faltered, running my fingers through my hair restlessly. "And for that I'm sorry, and...embarrassed, and...and ashamed." I started pacing up and down his living room, nervously rambling on. "I don't know why I did..." A lump was beginning to make it difficult to talk, because I _did_ know why. And I knew who I'd have to bring up to explain it to him. "I guess I thought that if I screwed myself up enough, then she would have to come back and save me." I glanced back at him, still kneeling by the chair I had been sitting in, and saw the confusion somewhat fade from his countenance. "She'd have to." I insisted, my eyes starting to gather moisture.

"Your mother?" I nodded curtly, scarcely trusting myself to do much else. "But, _querida_" He paused a moment, contemplating what he was going to say, "Why is it different...with me?"

I avoided his question for as long as I could before I looked back at the expression on his face and blurted so fast that it sounded like one word,

"Um, well. I think it's just maybe because...I love you."

* * *

_I've been having a crap week and a lot of reviews would really cheer me up._

_And inspire me to write the next chapter really fast._

_Please :D_


	17. Chapter 17

_It's almost been a month! Wow!_

_Time flies when you're...studying._

_Huh. That's, __um, sad._

_Anyway. Here's some karma coming back your way!_

_**dori-tori **- Thanks so much for reviewing! I hope I surprise you with his reaction. Though, I guess that's not really such a great thing. Well, anyway, thanks!_

_**Miami Blackheart** - I love your reviews so much! Sorry about the cliffhanger. They just kinda come naturally. And thankyou for taking a note of my wellbeing, that was very sweet :))_

**_Jelly Joy - _**_Well, you've just been here from the start, haven't you? I can't tell you how much I appreciate your awesome reviews. They really get me by when I'm frustrated with my writing. Oh, and never change your picture - it's the only way I know how to recognize you! haha!_

**_Lyngan - _**___I'm really glad you liked it. I kind of thought it was time enough for her to say it. I mean, she did work it out, like, seven chapters ago. Wow. That's actually quite a long time. Anyway, thanks for your review!_

**_Kimmi0490 - _**_I'm glad you're, well, drawn in by my story :) Sometimes I read over my stuff and think, "Wtf is this? This is terrible!" haha. So thanks for reviewing. :)_

**_Grace - _**_I'm so happy that you like this enough to say it's hard to stop reading! Thanks for your review!_

**_FlyingDutchman97 -_**_ You are the best! ____W_ell, firstly, your name just cracked me up from the start, haha. Very random. I'm a little sad to be admitting this, but you pretty much made my week _by reviewing 6 chapters. Honestly, don't feel like it's weird. It's really actually quite awesome, so thanks :)))) _

_**Rosslyn** - Haha, sorry Suze scared you. I guess I had such a big idea of what I needed Suze to be like in the story that I had to kind of...design Jesse around her, if that makes sense. Anyway, thanks heaps for your reviews!_

_As they say, here in Australia,_

_...um..._

_Yeah, actually, I have nothing._

_Well, that sucked._

_Anyway, extra long chapter again!_

_Can I hear a *woot, woot*?_

_No, um, I can't. _

_I, er, am not actually near any kind of thing that would make that sound._

_I'll stop talking now._

_Sorry._

_

* * *

_

As soon as I said the words, I wished I could just grab them out of the air and cram them all back in my stupid mouth. They'd sounded so superlatively _pathetic_ when I'd been mindless enough to say them out loud. All of a sudden, I was hyper aware of everything – the warm, still air in the room; the blank, shocked expression on his face; the feeling of the smooth sofa under my hand. I stared at him, my eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, as the blood rushed to my face, turning me a delightful shade of beetroot. It wasn't like I expected him to say it back or anything, but _really, _I did, and he wasn't. I stood there for another agonising second before dashing for my bag and trying to make a run for it.

Only his voice stopped me.

"Susannah-" he said imploringly, his voice raw with emotion – which, I wasn't sure. Possibly repulsion, I figured, from the way he'd reacted to my unsophisticated confession. His rejection – because I was certain that was what it was – chipped away at the one block on which I'd been standing.

It was unfathomable to me how I could charm and manipulate so many different guys, but I couldn't even _touch_ the one I actually wanted. The same heavy feeling of dread that I had just bade farewell to spread throughout my limbs again, weighing me down to his floor so that I couldn't move. I felt the absolute hopelessness of the situation, felt it right down to my bones, and it was at that moment the realisation struck me that there was nothing else. I had no friends to speak of; no family. I was alone, and it was taking Jesse's rejection to make me see that clearly.

Another glance at his face ignited the slightest flicker of depressed anger in my torso. He was sitting in the same attitude as he had been when I'd told him I _loved_ him, like I was a problem he had to get rid of, except that he didn't know how he was going to.

I thrust my shoulders back, making my back ramrod straight, agitated with perturbed anger at him. "Don't _'Susannah'_ me," I said, my voice heavily laced with exasperation. "So, what, this is just a sex thing for you, is it?" The thought occurred to me a millisecond before I voiced it. His face changed into disbelief and I momentarily berated myself for being stupid, but I had nothing else to say, so I went on. "Here I was thinking this was some kind of relationship," I said, my voice rising into a hysterical tone, "And all you wanted was a no-fuss hook-up? Well, you got what you wanted the other night. So I guess you're done." It felt incredible to be getting this off of my chest. I wasn't sure, though, whether I really believed what I was saying or if I needed to get tension out because of what I had sitting in my purse. "I'll let myself out." I managed to get out, my voice low and husky in a _so _do-not-come-hither way.

I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them, he was standing where he'd been sitting for the past ten minutes. His eyes reached out to me, but all I saw in them was pity for my stupid, one-way infatuation. My eyes began swimming, saltwater coating the lenses and threatening to spill down my cheeks. I snatched up my purse again and made my way to the door, my hand pausing on the door handle in case he called me back.

The room was quiet.

I slowly walked out of his apartment without looking back and closed the door silently behind me.

Leaning against the wall, barely a foot from his door, I struggled to regain my composure and stop the tears that were trying to fall from my eyes. I opened my mouth wide, trying desperately to force some air into my lungs, but found I couldn't make my chest rise with a breath. I felt like somebody was sitting on my chest and my head began to ache as I slid down the wall, unable to stay upright. I curled into a ball next to his door and tried to stop the roaring sound in my ears by rocking myself slowly. My body was beginning to shudder and my arms grasped my legs to me, in a vain attempt not to fall completely apart.

* * *

It felt like a good two hours later when I picked myself off the floor with the kind of heavy limbs that follow only a strenuous activity. I tried to ignore the fact that he hadn't come after me, and trudged down the hall, needing the cool night air outside to soothe me. I made my way toward the town centre slowly, trying to make the tears of hysteria on my face less perceptible. The night air whipped around my face, bringing me back to reality and sobriety; a bittersweet effect.

"Soose! There you arrrrr!" I jumped at a loud voice from behind me that I recognised but couldn't place. I stopped in my tracks immediately and whirled around to where the voice had come from, on alert in case it was somebody I didn't want to see. My shoulders slumped when I saw that it was Rob, but I stepped forward when I noticed the Trio of Evil with their oleaginous boys standing – _swaying_ – behind him.

I guess they had abused the pub's "2 for 1" offer that had been going on that night. Rob swaggered forward cockily, his eyes on my body and his words difficult to understand. "I woss wo-undernn where you gonnn, Soose. Yooh juss wokked off!" Apparently, it figured, he had censured what had _really_ happened in that alley, so as to not look like an idiot in front of his friends. I rolled my eyes at tiredly his slurred words and looked to the others, a dubious expression on my face.

"We were juss goin to have some fun, Suuze." Roxy announced, a bright smile on her face. She was leaning heavily – well, as heavily as a 95 pound girl _can_ lean – into caveman No. 2, looking way too drunk to know what fun was. I rose an eyebrow at Felicity and her face broke out into a smile. "Come on, Suuuze. Youllllll_love _it!"

* * *

I didn't love it.

Mostly because the big idea of fun involved way too much walking through sub-zero temperatures for my liking. I was way less than impressed, and planning my suave getaway to an undecided destination, as Rob approached car after car, trying the door of almost every vehicle on the street we were rambling down. We were up to car number 5 before I got too bored to stay quiet.

"Okay, this might be a stupid question, but what in _hell _are you doing?" I asked, my voice biting in the cold night air. He grinned around at me drunkenly, like I could actually see him properly and thunked his arm around my shoulder. I cringed and rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen his grip.

"You allllways get _some_one stupid who duzzzznt lock their carr, Soose." He slurred, in what he must have thought was a disarming fashion.

"Riiiiight..." I said dubiously, hoping nobody stupid _had _left their car unlocked. Rob steered an unwilling me over to the next car in the street, leaving the others in our wake. He tried the door of this one and smiled like a kid on Christmas morning when it actually swung open.

"Godtt one!" he bellowed in the general direction of the others, making them hurry disorderly over to where he was fiddling with something under the steering wheel. Suddenly, an engine noise spluttered to life and Rob sporadically yanked me backwards into the car by the hips, bumping my head and sitting me on his lap. I squirmed as soon as he shut the door, fear climbing up my spine, because it suddenly dawned on me what we were doing.

"You'rre gon' have soo much fun, Soose. More fun thhhhn evver!"

We were going for a joyride.

"There isn't room." I said to Rob immediately, my head thumping from the blow and my voice rising an octave with panic, "Let me out. I wanna get _out._"

"Oh, shud up, Suze." Said Felicity – as cattily as a trashed person can – who was climbing into the backseat with Roxy and Krystal. My fear swelled in my lungs – It was all well and good for them, all safe in the back seat. If we crashed, I was done for. The steering wheel was jabbing into my stomach as Rob put the car into gear and reversed out of the driveway. I tried to move backwards, but that only elicited an excited "Eyyyyy!" from Rob. I sat straight and tried to ignore the way I could feel all of the blood draining from my face. In a vain attempt to gain some stability, my hand wormed down between the seat and the door, grasping the bottom of the car seat so tightly that my fingers hurt.

Roxy, being the little airhead she is, forced a can into my other hand somehow in the pandemonium of seven drunk teenagers. I considered the alcohol before bringing it immediately to my lips in a split decision and swallowing it in four gulps. Warmth spread through my body and I got the tiniest tingling feeling in my arms and at the base of my spine. I reached around and grabbed the bottle out of Krystal's hand after discarding the can and downed the rest of that in a few swallows. I was beginning to feel better about things, which made the fact that Rob was now doing 60 miles an hour up the almost-deserted freeway not such a bad thing. The lights of stores and homes began blurring together like magic, getting faster and faster as the speedometer kept climbing. My hand found another can and after a few minutes, I knew whatever I was drinking was working.

"Cool, huh?" slurred Rob's voice in my ear. I cocked my head to the side slightly, trying to think.

"It kind of is."

"Wamme to go faster?" I smiled a little, impressed with how laid back I suddenly felt.

"Yeah, go on then."

The speedometer crept up to 80 as I watched it with fascination and I sagged back into Rob, thoroughly enjoying myself. I wasn't plagued by thoughts of pregnancy tests, or Jesse, or bitchy friends anymore. I was thinking that if I could get drunk more often, maybe I would be a funner person to be around. A grin like melted butter was spreading across my face as lights started coming towards us on the road. I felt like it would never end and that the petrol would never run out and we'd just be moving in this state of delirium forever.

"_Fuck!" _

Rob threw his body behind the wheel, knocking me to the side, and making me grasp the bottom of the seat even tighter as the car veered off the road. We were sent crashing through something that moved out of our way – a fence, I guessed later – and into a new terrain, which was slippery and made Rob scream, which, to tell the truth, kind of disturbed me. I heard a car horn blare at the same time as a sickening crunch of metal which made the steering wheel jab into my stomach even more painfully. My body was thrown forward and I smacked my head forcefully against the windscreen before bouncing back on the car seat, jarring my shoulder.

I should have passed out. The black should have licked away at my consciousness and within a few moments, I should have been totally pain-free and happy. But of course, my body never does what I want it to and so I stayed conscious as the aftermath of the crash played out around me. I vaguely remember one of the girls crying and quite a few people saying rather disconcerting things, such as, "Suze, don't move. It's okay, alright, you're gonna be okay." and "Holy fucking shiiit, Liss. What the fuck happened to her arm?" I would have smiled at that one if my whole body hadn't been so exhausted.

But it was so rude of them to talk about me like I wasn't there. I opened my mouth to say as much but soon realized that I had bitten my tongue, which was a total problem because it got in the way of the words I was trying to sound out.

It seemed that the new plan was to get out of the car before the cops came. I sighed through my nose and lolled my head back against the car seat, feeling a ribbon of blood coursing down the side of my face, thankfully missing my eye by a fraction of an inch. There was a _whoosh_ of cold, fresh air as whoever it was in the passenger seat flung open their door and got out, followed by the infinitesimal jolts of everybody else scrambling eagerly from the backseat. Each tiny movement sent a wave of pain shooting up my right arm and I winced at the horrible feeling of the smashed-in car door pressing painfully against it. Rob started moving his legs, like he was thinking of sliding out from underneath me, which gave me this big foreboding picture of agony that I didn't even want to _think _about, let alone experience.

"What are you doing? Stop moving!" I finally said, my voice coming out all funny because I was so banged up.

"Gotta get out, Soose. Someone will've called the police." I clamped my hand around his wrist to show him how much he was _not_ getting out, but was momentarily distracted by the blinding pain that was blood rushing back into my right arm. The door pinning my arm against the side of the seat was being opened by one of the cavemen. Rob took this distraction as an escape opportunity and slid out from underneath me, dropping me down onto the seat and jarring my arm _just _enough that if I'd had a knife, I would have cut it off. It really couldn't have hurt any more than it did at that moment.

"Suze," Came a voice weighed down with fear and worry – which girl it belonged to, I really couldn't tell you, "You need to get your hand out, okay? Just...like, pull it out or something."

I am very sad to say that the only solution I could come up with to that suggestion was simply for whoever was speaking to me to, "Fuck off."

"She's got blood all over her!" Somebody screeched, like I couldn't simply tell by the wet mess that was trickling down my forehead.

"Man, you're really messed up," came the voice of one of the guys, who sounded genuinely concerned. It struck me as odd that I was noticing such a little thing, like his tone of voice, in such a huge situation. Like, oh, a car crash.

"Look, I'm fine. I've...I've just got blood in my eyes. Can someone wipe my face?" I felt a infinitesimal amount of relief as my face was wiped with something cloth-like, but the sensation of a hundred needles poking me told me I was all scratched up, which totally dampened my mood again.

"You need to get out, Soose. Look, I'm gonna pull your arm free, okay?"

"No, she shouldn't be moved!" Came a girl's voice, "She might have, like, a broken arm, and have to be cut out, or something." But Rob obviously wasn't having a bar of this, because he grabbed my arm as I bit my lip like I intended to slice it in half.

"Okay, this might hurt a bit." He admitted ominously, making me nervous. And for a good reason, too.

Because it didn't hurt a bit.

It hurt a lot.

In fact, it hurt so much that tensed every single muscle in my body and made this weird sort of inward-scream, very barely resisting the carnal instinct that was telling me to throw up all over myself.

I immediately let my head fall back after I heard my arm make a very disconcerting snapping sound, and closed my eyes for just a second.

"Well," I said wearily, "It's broken now." A glimpse at their shocked faces was the last thing I saw before I finally, _finally_ fell into a black, numb unconsciousness.

* * *

_You know you want to..._


	18. Chapter 18

_Hello everybody :)_

_So, as of 8pm last night, I AM NOW OFFICIALLY SEVENTEEN!_

_So yes, technically my birthday was yesterday, but I'm pretty much a late person._

_So, here is my late birthday present to you all! _

_(And yes, I understand that it's not customary to give gifts on your birthday but whatever!)_

_

* * *

_

"Please wake up, Suze. Don't die. _No_, don't die. Open your eyes! Please..." This actually seemed like the most colossally stupid idea at the moment, considering how much debilitating pain was dripping back to me, along-side some totally superfluous consciousness. I tried to think about something other than the fact that I had a potentially irrevocably damaged arm and banged up forehead; like the freezing cold temperature of the grass beneath me, and the sound of those tiny little bugs that are always outside at night. This technique was surprisingly effective, like if I concentrated on all of these other things at once, then I didn't have to think about my arm. I could just flick a switch and the pain would subside.

The voice assailing my ears was growing more whiny with every word and I was actually kind of curious to see what the afterlife looked like, so I opened my eyes.

Needless to say, the afterlife sucked.

It mostly involved laying on my back, in a _field,_ only a few metres from the car, which was leaning drunkenly against a wall. Felicity and Roxy were hovering nervously near my head while Krystal had what looked like a panic attack back over where the car was slumped.

"Help me up." I croaked horsely, realising for the first time that my throat was raw and itchy. My voice sounded scratchy and I would have cleared my throat if I wasn't sure it would hurt like hell.

"No, don't move her!" Krystal screamed almost instantaneously, "She might have a broken...leg, or something and you shouldn't move her! She has to go to the hospital." A hysterical Krystal was one of the last things I needed now, right alongside a trip to the emergency room.

"I'm fine." I protested, irritated, "What's new?"

"Oh, Suze. The boys just left!" Wailed Roxy, her bottom lip quivering like she was about to tear up. "They went and they said we should probably call a taxi, but then Liss said you need an ambulance and we just didn't know what to _do_!" I concentrated on her inane babble as she and Felicity helped me upright, rendering me so dizzy that my vision faltered and blackened for a moment. I staggered a little until Felicity had enough sense to put an arm around my waist in an attempt to steady me.

"Oh, wow. Headrush." I closed my eyes in an attempt to stop the world spinning and swallowed down the urge to throw up. "Let's hear it for my endorphins. _They_ rock."

"She's delirious." I could hear the eye-roll in Krystal's tone of voice.

"And you're just ugly." I said automatically, before turning back to Felicity and Roxy, who were actually being co-operative for once. "So, what's the plan? And it had better not involve any of the emergency services."

"I don't know!" Krystal snivelled, throwing her hands up in the air like she was in a bad teen movie. Roxy sighed almost inaudibly and Felicity whined under her breath, which was way lame. I tried to sift through the niggling things in my mind, like, oh, what had just happened (a car crash in which I played a major role), what was currently happening (pretty much nothing, save the Trio of Evil panicking about stuff) and what the hell we were going to do about this little predicament (I did not yet know).

Believe it or not, I was actually beginning to feel good about stuff. I hadn't been killed, which was a definite plus in the pro column, and I couldn't feel my arm, which meant that I didn't feel like little invisible people were clinging to it, stabbing at me continuously with sharp knives.

"And that..." I said to Krystal, who was quivering her bottom lip for all she was worth, "...Is why you'll always be...oh, what was it, Felicity?" She gave me a pointed look but I just attempted a smile, "_Right_, A brainless follower." I couldn't tell who was glaring at me more vehemently; Felicity or Krystal. Luckily, I could stand on my own, so I stepped away to let them know that I could totally handle myself, _thankyouverymuch_, and that I didn't need their help. I looked around for what I think was the first time – with my intoxicated state and banged up head, I couldn't be sure – and was mildly surprised at our surroundings.

"We're in a field." I noted, my voice completely void of any emotion, "Which means we need to walk back to the highway or call somebody to come get us."

"My phone isn't working." Krystal whined, which did nothing except give me an overwhelming urge to break one or more of her fingers.

"So use mine." I retrieved my Blackberry from my pocket with my good arm and tossed it to her, while Roxy wondered aloud about who would actually come to pick us up. Felicity made a noise of agreement.

"I guess we could call one of the boys." Krystal suggested. I gave her a look and she bit her lip, like she was really thinking hard. Roxy piped up, "We should call my brother. He'll come get us." Krystal nodded emphatically at Roxy and started to type on my keypad.

"How does she know his number?" I murmured to Felicity, who was putting her hands over her face repeatedly.

"They're like, totally tight."

"Since when?"

"Few weeks." I was pretty stunned by this fact. But in all honesty, I really didn't care all that much about Krystal, so I just shrugged.

"Huh." I said noncommittally, as Krystal let loose a despairing wail.

"There's no signal!" I simultaneously sighed and rolled my eyes. Was it really too much to ask that I wasn't completely surrounded by idiots?

"So walk until you get one."

"But I don't wanna walk on my own." She replied, little sobs beginning to wrack her small frame. I opened my mouth to say something disparaging, but Felicity started speaking before me.

"It's okay, Krystal. Alright? Calm down, babe." She sidled up and draped an arm around Krystal's shoulders in a sort of half-hug, making Krystal look even smaller; diminished somehow. I looked over at Roxy, who was gazing curiously at Felicity while absentmindedly rocking back and forth on her heels. "I'll go with you, okay?" Felicity said quietly to Krystal, who sniffed and nodded, acting like walking a few metres was a total hardship. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, because I seriously think that if I did it once more, there was a good chance that they'd just roll right back into my skull.

"And we could just call an ambulance." Krystal said, the flimsy threat in her words dulled on account of the miserable tears smeared on her pale face.

"An ambulance which I don't need." I bit back, "Plus, if you call an ambulance, they'll call the police. And if the police come...well, I'll tell them _you_ were the one driving." I said, surprising even myself with the calm, hard tone of voice I was somehow tapping into.

"Whatever, Suze." Felicity snapped, apparently taking responsibility for poor, defenceless Krystal. "It's like, you've got a freaking broken arm and a concussion, and _all you can do_ is order everyone around and be a _bitch_."

I exhaled deeply. "Why are you still here?" I asked testily, narrowing my eyes, which made my face ache even more. It was _almost_ worth the pain to see Felicity pout and walk away with a flounce, Krystal following in her footsteps.

Both Felicity and Krystal were gone for what seemed like ages, but thankfully, Roxy was much more conciliatory. I made her retrieve my bag from the car and find me some more alcohol, because if I stopped concentrating on thinking about things other than my arm, I could feel this sharp, angry throbbing that made me catch my breath. I figured alcohol would help with the pain. It definitely couldn't hurt.

By the time they got back, I was swaying on my feet a little, grasping – and regularly swigging from – a can of who-knows-what in my good hand. Felicity took one look at the can in my hand and gave me a look. I couldn't be bothered with her so I just broke eye contact.

"We have to walk to the highway to get picked up. And Suze, you shouldn't be drinking." I shrugged as well as I could and began walking. By the sounds of their footsteps, they were following close behind. "Fine," Felicity continued, "Don't come crying to me if you get brain damage from drinking with a concussion or whatever." The throbbing in my arm was getting harder to ignore so I just kept quiet, except to say, "Somebody light a cigarette for me."

It was somewhere around ten minutes and two cigarettes later when we reached the side of the road. It occurred to me later how sketchy we must have looked standing on the shoulder of the highway at whatever ungodly hour of night it was. An infinitesimal amount of time passed and I was growing more tired with every second. The Californian night air was harsh and unforgiving and huddling into my coat wasn't something I wanted to attempt with a shredded arm.

"I'm so tired." I announced, my voice sounding drowsy, "Maybe I could just lay down until your brother comes, Rox." Felicity and Krystal gave each other a look that was too exhausting to think about and Roxy looked at me with an odd expression on her face. Possibly because I had just given her a nickname.

A few minutes later, I rejoiced inside to see a pair of headlights coming toward us, wholeheartedly planning to fall asleep in the back of Roxy's brother's car. It wasn't until the car was in front of us that I realised it wasn't Dean's little lemon. The car in front of us was blacker than the night sky and a whole lot shinier. I looked around at Felicity, who had a guilty look on her face.

"Where's Roxy's brother?" My voice was low with strain and emotion.

"Oh look!" Piped up Krystal, "Here he is now!" A car pulled up behind the black one and the girls started to walk toward it. I followed, trying to ignore the black car, which nobody had even gotten out of yet, until Felicity whirled around, blocking my path.

"Um, no, Suze. That's your ride there." She pointed to the black car.

"What? What's going on?" Felicity's lip curled.

"Look, it's just...We're done, Suze. I mean, we weren't gonna _leave_ you here, but now you have someone to pick you up, so you're not really our responsibility. We called your last missed call, and it turned out to be that guy from the bar a while ago, you remember him? Anyway, we asked him to come pick you up, and here he is." I was trying to make sense of everything, but she was talking too quickly, and I was too drunk, "None of us are hurt like you, so we're just gonna pretend it never happened. I guess you can't. Sorry." By the time she had finished talking, Roxy and Krystal had both gotten into the car, and I stared as Felicity walked to the door with a backward glance and disappeared into the car.

I suppose I just...stood there for a while, after the car had sped off, staring at where Felicity had been standing. I understood that Roxy and Krystal hated me – I mean, I was unmistakeably a massive bitch to them – but those two aside, Felicity and I had been best friends since we were little. I couldn't comprehend her actions, especially since I was drunk and possibly concussed.

"Susannah?"

I flinched at the sound of my name, jerked out of my thoughts and wary of how close his voice was. He must have come up behind me while I was lost in my own mind.

I didn't want to turn around. I wished that they could have told me who they called, so I would at least have a chance to lose some of the car-crash-victim vibe.

"Susannah, turn around." His voice was gentle and almost pleading. I acquiesced and turned around slowly, trying to make sure I didn't get dizzy and fall over or something equally embarrassing.

As soon as he got a look at my face, he sucked in a big breath and staggered backwards, a haunted look in his eyes. He put his hands on the trunk of his car to hold himself in and blinked, looking shocked and almost...scared. But I couldn't be sure.

"_Nombre de Dios."_ He muttered to himself. He turned around again to look at me and closed his eyes after a second. "She said you were _okay_."

"I _am_ okay." I said drowsily. "I'm okay." I said again, not sure whether I'd already told him this or not. He blanched when I swooned and hurried over to put an arm around my waist. With the immense pain that was creeping in from each direction, my heart hardly had the chance to speed up like it usually did when Jesse touched me. I figured this was a good thing.

I hissed in pain as he touched my side and tried my best to hide my discomfort. I think I did pretty well in that respect, because he led me over to his car without a word, sitting me in the very comfortable passenger seat before closing the door.

I leaned back against the headrest and shut my eyes thankfully as he opened the other door and got in. There was a small clicking sound and my eyelids lightened a little, which meant that he'd turned the overhead light on. My eyes fluttered open when I felt his fingers on me, brushing back my hair, which had stuck unattractively to the blood on my forehead. He was shaking his head sadly, looking much more distressed than I figured he would have.

"Where else are you hurt, _querida?" _I was so whacked up that I didn't remember he had called me this until later. I shook my head a little, trying to move as little as possible.

"I just need to sleep. Can you take me to..." I trailed off because there was nowhere I could go. I had burnt every single bridge, and even in this state, I had nowhere to go. "Um..." I faltered, mortified.

"Where else are you hurt?" He repeated firmly, and I was too tired to protest any more, so I told him.

"My arm," I whispered, because even talking was becoming increasingly painful. I heard him emit an odd gasping kind of noise as well as a Spanish curse and when I re-opened my eyes, he was pale and staring at my arm the way someone might stare at an oncoming train. He started the car and pulled away from the shoulder, a muscle leaping in his jaw. I blinked.

"Where are we going?"

"To the hospital." He replied, looking straight ahead at the road.

"No, that's okay. Can I just go back to your place, maybe? And sleep." At the time, this seemed like an actual, reasonable option.

"We are going to the hospital." He said firmly, and I must have passed out before I could argue any more, because I honestly don't remember a thing after that.

* * *

_Leave me a 17th birthday present?_

_Please Review :)_


	19. Chapter 19

_Oh my gosh. My 17th birthday? Was that really the last time I updated this? I'm sorry guys!_

_The only excuse I have is a whole lot of homework :( I know it's bordering on lame._

_Random updaaaaate:_

_So if you know me, you know I live in Australia. But I have some totally exciting news - I'm going on student exchange to Northern California (Only like, 2 hours away from where the mediator is set. Cool, no? I might even visit Carmel!)_

_You guys probably couldn't care less, but I thought that was so **awesome**!_

_Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you guys have it._

_Enjoy, queridas (y queridos)_

* * *

_Previously..._

Following the _Trio of Evil _trying to set Suze up with some oleaginous guy on a night out, Suze escapes his 'charms' to take an inevitable trip to the pharmacy - to buy a pregnancy test. While there, the fates decide that her life is much too easy, and decide that Jesse should be picking up a prescription at the same time. Jesse notices how confused she is and takes her to his apartment, which leads to Suze's unwilling confession of her love for him. Jesse is shell-shocked and when he doesn't reply, she hightails it out of there and again, runs into the Trio of Evil, along with their pet cavemen who think that stealing a car would be the best road to funsville. The car ends up crashing (surprise) and Suze gets banged up pretty bad - much worse than the other girls do. The girls decide to call the last missed call on Suze's phone to come pick her up (guess who), while they catch a ride with Roxy's brother. Jesse buckles up Suze, after gawking at her injured arm, and starts the car...

_"Where are we going?"_

_"To the hospital." He replied, looking straight ahead at the road._

_"No, that's okay. Can I just go back to your place, maybe? And sleep." At the time, this seemed like an actual, reasonable option._

_"We are going to the hospital." He said firmly, and I must have passed out before I could argue any more, because I honestly don't remember a thing after that._

* * *

I knew I was dreaming.

Which was unusual because when I'm dreaming, I get so caught up in the moment that I think it's reality. I mean, don't you? Most mornings I'm woken by my own screams at some ungodly hour, relieved as soon as I realise it was just another nightmare.

But for once, my dream _wasn't_ a nightmare. I was dreaming this beautiful, soft-as-lace dream that I could have lived in forever. Although as much as the dream was distracting me, I couldn't help the niggling feeling in the back of my mind that something significant was happening in the real world.

I desperately tried to evade this feeling, because I couldn't pass up time with Jesse, even if it was a dream. And in the dream, he wasn't mad with me, or disappointed in me, or fighting with me. We were lying face to face on an unfamiliar bed that looked nothing like mine – instead of steel, it was constructed from a hard, dark wood that almost formed an cage, blood-red curtains cascading over the sides in a clandestine canopy. Through the gaps in the curtains, I could tell that the room itself was completely black, but I couldn't tell whether it was the colour of the walls or simply the darkness. The only light was cast by a cluster of flickering candles placed on the bedside table beside us. It made no sense for it to be familiar to me – it wasn't like my bedroom, or my bed, yet somehow I inexplicably knew that it was. Mine, I mean.

Jesse was staring directly into my eyes, like he used to, slowly running his hand through my dark hair. He whispered over and over to me that it was going to be okay; everything was going to be okay. And all I wanted was to stop worrying about our relationship on top of everything that was happening, so I believed him. I allowed myself to melt into his touch and gave in to what my body wanted. But sooner or later I had to apologise.

"Jesse," dream-me whispered, averting my eyes from his endless, dark ones, "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for, _querida?"_ He was searching my eyes for the answer, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"For telling you I love you. It was stupid. I-I'm sorry." He simply shushed me and pulled me toward him on the bed, letting dream-me huddle into his delicious warmth. He rested my head on his chest and began stroking my hair again. I could feel his body pressed against mine and had to take a deep breath to calm myself.

"I love you…even more than you can imagine, Susannah." He said slowly into my hair, "But you have to wake up for me, okay?" I nodded slightly because I figured dream-me had fallen asleep. We were on my bed, after all, and it was dark out – though still, that could have been the paint; let me get back to you on that. I tried to open my eyes, but it seemed like such a superhuman effort that they hardly even fluttered in an attempt to open. "Come on, _querida._ Please." Jesse deserved a decent effort, so I tried again.

When I did open my eyes, however, it wasn't my own bed that I was lying in or even the phantom bed from my dream. It was an uncomfortable, hard bed with an unfamiliar ceiling above it. Before I could wonder about where I was, something moved at the edge of my vision, causing my heart to quicken and my eyes dart to it.

It was Jesse's face. Just his face. But knowing he was here with me wrapped a blanket of safety and security around my shivering body. My lips curled up in an inevitable smile but quickly dropped when a surge of pain shot through my face. "Ow." I said, trying my best not to move my mouth. The result was a muffled, mispronounced word that didn't even count as 'ow'. But I shouldn't have worried anyway because it was drowned out by Jesse's excited monologue.

"Susannah! You woke up!" And this was making him really, really happy for some reason. I cocked an eyebrow at him, which hurt even more than more than my smile. Why was I in so much pain? What had happened?

"Yeah, Jesse. About that…" I said, squirming in a vain attempt to get comfortable. It was no use; the bed was much too unforgivable. "…I wake up most mornings. Not exactly front-page material." His face fell and he seemed confused by what I'd told him, which only served to confuse me right back. How hard was it to believe that I woke up every morning? This was getting weird; maybe I was still dreaming. If so, I wanted to go back to the other dream. That one was much more conciliatory.

"But Susannah…Don't you remember?" He asked, his facial expression telling me that I really _should_ remember whatever it was.

"No, I don't!" The frustration at myself and at the whole situation was bringing tears to my eyes and I tried – unsuccessfully – to sit up. "What's going on, Jesse? Why am I hurt? Why am I _here_?"

"Susannah..." He looked distraught, as if the situation was a cause for serious alarm. He reached out a hand toward me, but rescinded it soon after. "You were in a car crash."

As his information registered in my mind, a buzzing noise began to sound in my ears, distracting me as everything began to fall away; the blood from my face; Jesse; the hospital room. I sucked in a huge, shaky breath, which hurt much more than I had anticipated it would. "No." The word burst from my lips with a dark, dreading warning. "No, no, that was her." My body began to react, fear shooting through my nerves and making my hands shake. The buzzing in my ears was morphing into a roaring sound, taking my breath away and making my limbs shake uncontrollably as if in fear.

Jesse stepped closer, his brows drawn together in confusion again. "What? That was who, Susannah?" I hesitantly cast my gaze around the room, beginning to recognise it as identical to the room she was in. The room I could never push out of my macabre nightmares. The room where I watched her die over and over again.

"_Jesse_. Jesse, get me out of here." I grasped at his hand and squeezed it as hard as I could. "Oh my God, I can't breathe. I need to get out of here!" Tears began falling and I could tell my heartbeat was quickening by the monitor beside my bed, which was beeping faster and faster with every second.

"Susannah. Susannah!" Jesse took both of my hands in his and forced me to look at him. "Look at me, okay? I'm here. It's okay. It's going to be fine, _querida. _I promise_." _He shushed me, pushing my hair back from my face.

"No, she…" I was almost sobbing, and it was horrible. My body calmed slightly with his touch, the shaking ceasing. "She died." I had meant to finish the sentence with 'here', but the fact was that it meant more without it.

"Your mother." He realized. I sniffed in response, torn between wanting to let it all out and cry uncontrollably, and suck it up and force myself to calm down. I attempted the latter and slowly but surely, my heart rate fell, the slowing beep of the monitor calming me. He kissed the top of my head and sat back down, pulling the chair closer to my bed.

"Tell me about her." I blinked at him, as if I didn't understand. But I did understand, I just didn't know where to start. It was like my feelings and actions were cross-wired, making cause and effect all muddled in my brain.

"Well...she was really pretty, y'know? She had this dark hair and warm smile, and she always called me Suzie, but it didn't matter..."

* * *

At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because I don't recall a lot of the rest of the conversation. All I remember is waking up with my head screaming for Tylenol and my body screaming for something stronger. It was minutes after the decision to call the nurse and ask her to come drug me up that I was alerted to the deplorable fact:

My doctor was Russian.

Every second word that came out of his mouth was almost indecipherable, which made my head ache even more than it had since I woke up. Jesse had left while I was asleep, but somehow I knew he hadn't actually left the hospital. Some part of me knew that he wouldn't leave until he told me he was going to. Jesse's absence meant that I had the perfect opportunity to find out what I needed to know, but that still didn't make it easy.

"Now, you need to get the rest and I will be back later, yes? Is there a question you need asking to me?" I tuned in to my doctor for the first time since he'd entered the hospital room and mentally pushed myself to force the words from my mouth.

"I need to know if I'm pregnant." I blurted, wanting to get the words over and out of my mouth as soon as I could. He seemed taken aback at my confession and he blinked a few times before shaking his head. I couldn't tell by the expression on his face if he was annoyed or trying to say that I wasn't pregnant.

"Doctor?" He was studying the clipboard at the end of the bed and looked up at me when I spoke. "Um…uh, am I?" My mouth had gone completely dry with fear and anticipation, and my stomach felt like it was doing backflips up somewhere next to my oesophagus. I was terrified. Terrified of him confirming what I wasn't. Because I wasn't pregnant, right? I couldn't be pregnant. But then he sighed dramatically, hitting his clipboard with a pen...and I knew.

I just_ knew_.

The breath escaped my lungs with a _whoosh_ and I fell back against the plastic of the hospital bed.

I was pregnant.

_I,_ Susannah Simon, megabitch and emotional wreck, was with child. I had a baby growing inside of me. Just a tiny little baby. My baby.

But I had to get an abortion.

Or maybe…_maybe _I could do the adoption thing, like on that movie, Juno. Because what if it's too late? Oh my god, what if it's too late to have an abortion?

Well, I could take care of it – I never really thought I'd go to college. I could, couldn't I?

But then I would get stretchmarks and morning sickness and…and I was sixteen for God's sake! I couldn't have a baby!

These thoughts raced through my mind in a fraction of a second while the doctor began shaking his head again. He opened his mouth to say something but I held up a shaking hand, turning my head to the side.

"No, I don't want to hear about my options. I can't...have this child. I can't adopt it out. I need to have an abortion. I can't have this child!" I repeated, to show him just how much I could not fucking have this child. My voice was growing shrill but I shut up when my doctor began laughing.

I had suffered a car-crash and was a pregnant sixteen-year-old, and he was _laughing? _What kind of sadistic hospital was I _in?_

"You are not…" He gestured to his own stomach, "With the child, here. Never with the child, okay?" My muscles slackened.

"I-I'm not pregnant?" I asked, daring myself to believe it. I didn't care about the desperate hope in my words, I just wanted so, so badly to believe him.

"No, no. Not pregnant." He shook his head again, which was beginning to bug me.

"How do you know?" I wanted him to prove it. I needed him to assure me – I couldn't let myself hope and then find out that I actually was pregnant – it would kill me.

"We do the tests when the patient comes into hospital. If you were with the child, we find out on the tests, yes?" He explained patiently.

"But…" But what? "I-I skipped some periods. And…and I've been throwing up. I thought…"

"I say not with the child. I don't say not very sick. You are a girl with much stress and worry. We call the...chronic exhaustion. Very sick girl, needs the rest." I blinked, unable to accomplish much else. He turned on his heel and walked out of my room in the space of a few seconds, leaving me staring after him blankly.

* * *

_I have absolutely nothing against Russians - it was just the first accent that came to me._

_So anyway, there's this little button just below. And studies show that if you click it and write something...you're amazing. Just saying. Like, you could even tell me if you wanted another story updated. Dude, you're the reviewer._

_So Please Review :)_


	20. Chapter 20

_Hi, everybody._

_I can't even express how sorry I am that it's taken me so long to update this story. I really do hate leaving you guys hanging, but sometimes life just gets in the way. Also, my computer crashed when I had this chapter almost written (as well as almost all of my other stories' next chapters) and it's been kind of a taxing task to completely rewrite it. Anyway, over the next month or so, I'm going to be concentrating on finishing this story (there's only a few chapters left) as well as updating other stories regularly._

_Without further ado, I give to you the long awaited twentieth chapter!_

_Enjoy, sailor scouts!_

* * *

I cried.

Because it was actually beginning to be, like, my niche – I seemed to be doing it every day now, without fail. And it wasn't just the subtle eye-leaking sort; these were heart-wrenching sobs that actually _hurt,_ if only on account of the fact that it hurt whenever I moved. I couldn't make myself stop, not even when Jesse walked in a minute later with two cups of coffee in his hands, and that heartbreaking smile – well, before his eyes found me.

"Susannah!" his face dropped in under a second and he rushed over in the same amount of time – to be fair, the room was quite small – practically throwing the coffee in the chair beside the bed. "Should I call your doctor? What is it?" The look on his face was so concerned that instead of stopping my crying, it only made it worse. A moment later, he seemed to give up. "I'm calling for your doctor." He announced, finality lacing his words and making him sound authoritative. I couldn't do much but shake my head, trying to stifle my sobs with my hand.

After a few more minutes of this embarrassing, messy crying, the bubble in my chest began to subside. My breathing calmed down to a somewhat steady rhythm, and the tears stopped coming, to my immense relief.

"I'm sorry." My voice wavered a little as it floated through the air, but I could deal with that. "I didn't mean for you to see that."

"Does this happen a lot?" He asked, his expression unreadable. He moved the coffee from the chair and sat down with his eyes trained on me, as if I was planning to escape at any moment. Placing his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers, he stared inscrutably at me until I gave him an answer.

"Me descending into pathetic fits of tears? Not until just recently." I said with a sigh, adjusting myself against the fluffy pillows at my back in an attempt to appear more dignified.

"How recently?" His voice was distrustful, and a crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"Look, Jesse, what is this about?" He opened his mouth to ask what I was talking about, so I cut him off, "This complete 180 you've just executed."

"What do you mean?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, five hours ago, you were telling me you don't love me and kicking me out of your apartment–" It hurt to say, but it had to be said.

"I was not doing any of those things."

"-and now you're bringing me _coffee_ and...and _caring_ that I'm a mess?" His face softened and the indignation that had been present wore off.

"Susannah...I've cared about you since the moment we met." His voice had softened too, but that wasn't going to stop me from calling him on his bullshit.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, feigning surprise, "_That_ was caring, was it? Right, of course. I mean, it really _felt_ like you cared when you were calling me a distrustful whore."

He put his head in his hands, as if deeply ashamed. Or maybe he was just over this conversation and wanted to get back to not loving me elsewhere.

"I-I was conflicted." He admitted, as if the words were difficult to get out. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I met you, this strong, bright girl who I was..._insanely_ attracted to, and I could tell that there was something in your past, something terrible. You would get this far-away look in your eyes every so often, like you weren't even in the room anymore, and it frustrated me that I couldn't just make you better; just take the sadness away from you. I couldn't openly ask you about it; you were defensive enough as it was," he paused to give me a slight smile, "But aside from that, things seemed to be going great. Then, that day I brought you to my apartment, my roommates had a lot to say. They told me you were trouble; told me about the rumours...I didn't know what to believe, and I'm ashamed to say I lashed out at you. You didn't deserve any of what I said to you that night. You really didn't, Susannah; I was acting out of jealously and ignorance. After I said those horrible things to you, I got _so_ mad at myself. I threw things; I yelled at my roommates..." he smiled wryly, "That was mostly the basis for what you liked to call my 'hot-and-cold routine'. I was angry at myself; sometimes I didn't know whether I wanted to push you away from me or hold you so tight..." He blinked a few times, as if to clear his mind, "Anyway, Slater just...well, the night he came into that club with you on his arm was when I lost hope that I'd ever get you back. I got so angry at him, at myself, even at you. That's why I picked a fight with you; because I was hurting and confused and just acting on impulse." He looked down at the floor, unable to meet my eyes.

"I get it," I said quietly, surprising myself. He looked up at me, his brow knitted, as if he hadn't expected me to give up this easily. Hell, _I_ hadn't expected me to give up this easily. But I understood. I _got_ his lashing out, because it was exactly what I would have done in the situation. Honestly, I couldn't blame him for much without being a complete hypocrite.

We were both silent for a long while after that, the only sound in the room coming from the hall outside. I focussed on the chatter of the nurses, the beeping of machines, the wheeling of...well, I don't know what they were exactly, but I could hear them being wheeled. The sounds of the hospital almost became white noise and my brain freed up space to think about a million things at once, like how fucked up my life was about to get. I looked out the small window, feeling the need to be quiet.

"Why did you leave?" I felt the words like a kick to the stomach. It had been childish to expect this conversation to simply go away by itself, but that's what I had done. I didn't answer for a few minutes, during which Jesse fidgeted in his chair. The noise of the hospital remained constant and it began to feel like we were set apart from reality, secluded in this room; like time didn't apply to us as it did to others.

"I was scared." I almost whispered, avoiding looking at him.

"Scared of what?" He asked, sounding curious yet slightly abrasive, "Scared that we might wake up together, have breakfast? Scared I might want to give this a try...give _us_ a try?" My heart leapt hopefully at the words but I swallowed my joy, because look what happened last time I let myself be happy.

"Frankly, I was scared that you'd wake up and kick me out of bed. I couldn't stick around for the..." I forced myself to say it, "The 'you were great, I'll call you' speech. I wouldn't have been able to handle it, not from you." I swallowed my embarrassment, "I was scared that I wasn't...good enough for you." My whole face felt hot, and I knew I was turning an unattractive shade of scarlet.

"Susannah," he paused to look at me like I'd just told him the sky was green, "I thought...well, I thought that this was something you weren't exactly new to." I looked down, concentrating intently on the hospital comforter. I wondered why everything in hospitals was always white, like why couldn't it be purple or green? I looked up at him slowly, feeling uncomfortable shame in the pit of my stomach.

"Being totally conscious the whole time is something I'm new to." I said quietly, wishing I didn't have to put all this crap on him. But if he was going to ask, I was going to tell him; I was so sick of secrets. He winced with his eyes closed, and then stayed in the same position for a while.

"How many-" Jesse cut himself off, and if his tone of voice was anything to go by, it was because he was holding back some serious emotion.

"Guys?" His head nodded slightly and I sighed. "I don't know, exactly, but not as many as you think. Maybe six, including you." He opened his eyes at that, shock apparent in their depths.

"Then why are people out there saying you've slept with half the male population of every high school in town?" I smiled internally at Jesse's creative way of saying 'slut'.

"Because I don't stop them." I said unapologetically. To be honest, I'd actually started some of the rumours, but telling Jesse that was kind of pushing it.

"Why not?" He asked, forcefully. I sighed deeply, wishing I didn't have to have this conversation. When I refrained from answering, Jesse repeated himself. "Why not tell people the truth, Susannah?" I tried my best to calm myself down, but my next words were an outburst anyway.

"Because it makes me normal, okay? It makes me seem like any other girl." Confusion set into Jesse's features, and he raked a hand through his hair.

"How do _rumours_ turn you into something normal?" He asked, his voice telling me this was incredibly preposterous. "Aren't you normal without this reputation?"

"No!" I answered, my eyes glistening. I blinked back the tears, because god damn it, I would _not_ cry again. "No, I'm not. I _hate_ it, Jesse. I can't stand it when someone puts their hands on me. When a friend hugs me, or a guy tries to kiss me, I freeze. And when I tried to...after Jeremy, I couldn't do it. I tried so hard to be normal, but it felt like – like _spiders_ were crawling all over my skin, and I was literally sick. Which is why I drink so much. Because when I'm not all there, it's bearable. And if I forget who I am for just the slightest moment, it's all worth it." He seemed to be at a lack for a response, so I went on.

"The first guy I slept with willingly, I was so drunk I could barely walk up the stairs." He really didn't need, or probably want, these details, but I didn't know what else to say. "He was on the swim team at St. Marks or something...anyway, the point is, I was so proud of myself because the fact that I didn't freak made me normal. It meant that Jeremy didn't get through to me; he didn't break me. It meant I wasn't scarred forever after he...after he did that to me." I fell silent because I was just putting my foot in my mouth, but Jesse stood and began to pace slowly.

"And that's what it was like when we..." He trailed off, failing to even look at me. He just continued to pace the room, his hand at his temple.

"No!" I shouted, shocked at his assumption, "No, Jesse, it wasn't like that, I promise. Not with you." He continued to pace, and nothing I said would make him stop. "Jesse, please, just look at me! It wasn't like that!" I cried, getting frantic at the way he was muttering under his breath, completely tuning me out. I swung my legs out of the bed, completely ignoring how I felt, and rushed over to Jesse to grab him around the arms. He stopped moving, which was a definite positive, but then suddenly the room tilted at an odd angle. I felt myself crumpling as a dizzy blur spread from my forehead, down to the rest of my body. I scrunched my eyes shut, waiting for the hard impact of the tiled floor, but I was apparently waiting in vain, because a strong set of arms shot out and wrapped around my waist before I could make contact.

I opened my eyes slowly, and there was Jesse's face, right in front of mine. His expression changed to one of concern and he stared down at me, locked as we were in this strange embrace. One of his hands came up to push hair back from my mouth, and he uttered my name, just once. His eyes wandered down my face, and rested upon my lips with an enamoured stare. His face came closer and for a fleeting second, I thought he was about to kiss me. At least until the door opened and he almost dropped me.

"How are we doi-" The nurse stopped almost comically as she saw Jesse with his arms around me, even though he was technically just preventing me from fainting. My stomach dropped as my bubble of hope burst and a tinge of red flushed across Jesse's cheeks. He carefully stood me up next to him, holding my arm to guide me back to bed. The nurse stood at the door awkwardly until I was comfortable under the covers.

"Right, honey, I'm just here to give you a little check-over," she said sweetly, giving me a warm smile. She turned to Jesse, who obviously wasn't taking anything in, "So if you wouldn't mind..." Jesse shook out of whatever daze he was in and nodded, walking to the door. He paused and looked over his shoulder at me as he left.

"Right. Uh, Susannah, I'll be back to visit you later if you're uh, up to it." I pressed my lips together to stop a bubble of laughter emerging from them. Of course Jesse would say something like that and not think about the implications it might hold from the nurse's perspective.

"Of course," I nodded, and he shut the door.

"Alright, let's get your charts filled out," the nurse said, coming over to the bed. She checked the machines by my bedside and asked me a few questions about the pain I was undergoing. As she checked my limbs physically, she surprised me by mentioning Jesse. "You're a lucky girl, a guy like that for a boyfriend..." I sighed unhappily because a nurse's casual assumption about our relationship was better than anything I could even manage.

"He's not my boyfriend. I don't think he's really my anything anymore." Her head snapped up to look at me.

"The way he looks at you...are you sure?" She asked, sounding dubious.

"Yeah, I am." I replied. I struggled with the next sentence, because I'd never admitted it to anyone but Jesse before. "I'm...in love with him, but he seems not to love me at all." As soon as the sentence left my mouth, I berated myself for telling some stranger my weaknesses. What the hell was I doing? I chalked it up to the morphine to make myself feel better.

"Susannah," She said, sitting on the end of my bed, apparently done with my checkup, "We accept the love we think we deserve. Maybe you just don't believe you deserve his." I contemplated this for a moment before I realised she was almost out the door.

"Wait!" She paused, looking back at me, "What's your name?" She smiled at me once more.

"CeeCee. I'm CeeCee." I smiled back at her, for the first time.

"CeeCee. It's nice to meet you."

* * *

_It's a little rough because I didn't really give myself much time to proofread, but hopefully you enjoyed it._

_If you did, please review._


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